The Relationship With the Father
by Nik216
Summary: A collection of one-shots that explore Eames' life as a husband and a father following, "Dreams That Have Stayed With Me Ever After." Ratings will vary depending on Mr. Eames' mood at the time...
1. Chapter 1

**AN: I just couldn't stay away. I had to write these two again, I think I was having withdrawals or something. So, as promised, this is going to be a collection of one shots that happen after, "Dreams That Have Stayed With Me Ever After" and center on Eames and his life as a father and husband. Some will be tame and sweet, and others…well this is **_**Eames**_** that we are talking about here…so goes without saying that good, hot, NSFW naughtiness will occur from time to time.**

**I am definitely open to requests and suggestions, so **_**please**_** let me know if there is anything that you want to see!**

**Thanks to Mals for this whole idea…**

**As always, read and review, darlings…MWAH!**

**Summary: Eames takes the night feeding duties with two month old Will to give Suzanne a little rest, and has a moment of reflection. This is rated 'S' for super-duper squoooooshy…LOL**

* * *

Eames had always been a light sleeper.

As a young child it was a result of sharing a cramped and crowded room at an orphanage. There were always voices and footsteps pacing the hallway, and it used to terrify him, so he'd clutch onto a small stuffed rabbit he'd been given by a social worker and he'd try to close his eyes and find peace. When he was at Oxford he burned the candle at both ends, studying into the wee hours of the morning, allowing himself only a cat nap for an hour or two before he would be up at five in the morning to finish his work and then go down to the barn for polo practice. In the Royal Marines there was always duty and rounds to perform, and sleep was had up against a wall or in the willing arms of an anonymous lover for a temporary moment of comfort. As a thief and a forger, it was obvious why he never closed his eyes for more than a second, his dreams were never his to enjoy.

It wasn't until the first night he spent in his woman's arms, in his _wife's _arms, that he'd truly ever been comfortable. But even after all this time he still woke at the slightest sound, and tonight was no different. It was the hunger driven wailing of his three month old son that roused him from a relaxed sleep a little after two am. He lifted his head just as Suzanne stirred next to him, sighing as she rubbed her bleary green eyes. She was exhausted from the infant's constant demand on her body and Eames leaned over to gently kiss her cheek.

"Go back to sleep, love, I can take this one." He whispered in a soothing voice.

She sighed with a relieved smile before she closed her eyes again and snuggled into the pillow, "Thanks, baby. I pumped tonight; there is a bottle all ready to go in the fridge. Mmm, I owe you."

Eames chuckled as he climbed out of bed and threw on his threadbare plaid robe, "Nonsense, darling," He mumbled as he crossed the room to the bassinet on Suzanne's side of the California king bed, "I'm the boy's father, it's my job."

A sleepy grin curled her pretty lips, "I love you."

He couldn't help but smile as he leaned in to see the fussing, teary eyes of his son William. It was incredible; he was a perfect combination of the two of them, such a little thing that held his heart in its tiny little hands. He never could have imagined loving anything more that Annie, and yet his son- he was dedication and devotion on a whole new level. Someone who needed him to be there always and he finally understood why Cobb would have gone to the ends of the Earth and put the entire team in jeopardy during the Fischer inception. His son was his life and he would do anything for him.

Eames lifted the tiny crying bundle into his arms and made his way out of the room, past the protective form of massive black Newfoundland dog that was at the foot of the bed. He automatically began to soothe his cries with a gentle rock, rubbing his back as he quietly whispered, "Everything is alright, little one, Daddy's here."

He padded down to the kitchen and pleased at his ability to cradle his son with one hand and do any matter of things with the other. It was only a few moments until he had the bottle microwaved and temperature tested; unabashedly by having his own suckle on the nipple. He smirked at the fact that a man who once jetted all over the globe making millions was now content to taste breast milk and change dirty diapers, but it was the truth.

Will was nestled in the crook of his elbow as he latched on the instant it was in his little mouth, guzzling it down and breathing through it all. He rocked him slowly as he walked over to the couch and sat down, making sure to carefully measure the first two ounces and give him a little burp before finishing the rest. Will was dozing by the end, and Eames knew if he walked back up into the room at the moment to put him down, Suzanne would wake up again.

She needed a little rest, so instead he kicked his feet up on the couch and pulled down a blanket to cover his legs as he opened the top of his robe and let his son sleep on the bare skin of his chest. It was perfectly quiet in the house, with only a faint sound of the ocean crashing into the craggy rocks in the distance and a lull of a December breeze that rustled the bare trees. He smiled to himself as he remembered the date; it was the morning of the 21st.

His son had been conceived a year ago today; on his wife's desk of all places…when she was his _boss_. They had been at such odds back then, and it was so wonderful and such a goddamn miracle how far they had come in twelve short months.

As if reading his mind at the memories of hurt and loss, Will stirred a bit, and Eames rubbed his back with a gentle hand. "It's alright son," He mumbled softly, "Your old man was smart enough to go to the ends of the Earth for your Mum, and I'll never let her go."

The baby seemed to still at the vibration of his voice in his chest and he thought of something to soothe him for just a little longer. He remembered a poem he'd been given as a gift by the very lovely and eccentric professor whose office was just across the hall from his. She'd written it out in elegant calligraphy and had it framed, it was by an early 20th century American named Carl Sandburg and it was entitled, _A Father to His Son._

_A father sees his son nearing manhood.  
_

_What shall he tell that son?  
_

_"Life is hard; be steel; be a rock."  
_

_And this might stand him for the storms  
_

_and serve him for humdrum monotony  
_

_and guide him among sudden betrayals  
_

_and tighten him for slack moments.  
_

_"Life is a soft loam; be gentle; go easy."  
_

_And this too might serve him.  
_

_Brutes have been gentled where lashes failed.  
_

_The growth of a frail flower in a path up  
_

_has sometimes shattered and split a rock.  
_

_A tough will counts. So does desire.  
_

_So does a rich soft wanting.  
_

_Without rich wanting nothing arrives.  
_

_Tell him too much money has killed men  
_

_and left them dead years before burial:  
_

_the quest of lucre beyond a few easy needs  
_

_has twisted good enough men  
_

_sometimes into dry thwarted worms.  
_

_Tell him time as a stuff can be wasted.  
_

_Tell him to be a fool every so often  
_

_and to have no shame over having been a fool  
_

_yet learning something out of every folly  
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_hoping to repeat none of the cheap follies  
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_thus arriving at intimate understanding  
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_of a world numbering many fools.  
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_Tell him to be alone often and get at himself  
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_and above all tell himself no lies about himself  
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_whatever the white lies and protective fronts  
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_he may use against other people.  
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_Tell him solitude is creative if he is strong  
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_and the final decisions are made in silent rooms.  
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_Tell him to be different from other people  
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_if it comes natural and easy being different.  
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_Let him have lazy days seeking his deeper motives.  
_

_Let him seek deep for where he is born natural.  
_

_Then he may understand Shakespeare  
_

_and the Wright brothers, Pasteur, Pavlov,  
_

_Michael Faraday and free imaginations  
_

_Bringing changes into a world resenting change.  
_

_He will be lonely enough  
_

_to have time for the work  
_

_he knows as his own._

His voice was soft and low, and he couldn't help but smile and feel emotion and love tighten his chest as he spoke the words to his infant son. Eames had never known the feeling of calling out to his father and having him answer, but he swore that until the last breath of air left his lungs, Will would never fall without him being there to extend a hand to help him stand back up again.

He wasn't sure how long he stayed like that, just feeling the tiny puffs of air tickle his chest, but it was so calm and soothing that his own eyes finally grew heavy and he slipped into a peaceful sleep.

* * *

Suzanne woke with a start two hours later, wincing as her breasts ached from fullness. It took her a split second to realize that her bed was empty and so was the bassinet. She stepped out of bed and threw on her warm, fluffy robe over her nightgown as she walked down the stairs and turned the corner to see her husband sleeping peacefully on the couch with her son nestled on his broad chest.

Her heart ached with sweetness as she tip-toed closer to see them in the weak dawn light of the December morning. It cast an almost ethereal glow on the bodies and she smiled at the way Eames still looked like a care-free little boy when he was asleep. His beautiful, pillow soft lips were slightly parted as he breathed deep and calm, and there wasn't a hint of restlessness to be found. And as her eyes moved down to the hard, muscled wall of his chest, she swore the sight of her son's pink rose petal soft skin amidst the utterly masculine black ink of his tattoos almost made her womb itself clench with unbearable desire.

It was a primal feeling that called to the very ancient, sacred and feminine part of her, the lioness watching the alpha male, the very embodiment of masculine power protecting his offspring.

"Just going to stand there and watch me as I sleep, love?" Eames suddenly whispered with a grin as he opened his grey eyes slowly.

Suzanne smiled as she whispered back, "I dare you to find me a woman who wouldn't be captivated by the sight in front of me. I am practically standing in a puddle right now."

He chuckled just as little Will began to stir and fuss again, and Suzanne reached out to take the baby into her arms as Eames sat up and moved the blanket, parting his legs so she could sit between them. He held her long ebony hair back as she parted her robe and let the strap of her night dress fall off her shoulder to expose her breast to their hungry child.

He couldn't help but place a soft kiss on the pale skin of her shoulder as he sighed with utter contentment as she leaned back into him, and his arms came around to hold her. Once again he could be nothing but humble and thankful for the endowment of the past year.

Twelve short months that had given him everything he never could have imagined being of worthy of having.

As if hearing his thoughts, Suzanne turned to look him in the eyes as she took his mouth in a sweet, tender kiss, full of passion, before whispering against his full lips, "I love you, Edward."

He smiled as he stared at them both as he answered her without reservations, "'Til I die, my love, always."


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Oooh, and here we are…Suzanne and Eames and a little personal time ; ).**

**Goes without saying this is just lovely NSFW smut between our favorite married couple…but it's funny as well…**

**Please read and review…and yeah keep those ideas coming!**

**Love you all!**

* * *

Suzanne closed the door to her son's bedroom with a tired sigh and tossed the baby monitor into the basket of dirty onsies and burp cloths that seemed to multiply at rate that had her wondering if they were actually replicating themselves on a molecular level. She hefted up the basket and walked down the stairs to the washroom to start yet another load of clothes.

She was in a pissy mood, and she felt absolutely horrible about the entire thing. There was_ no_ reason for her to feel this way either. Her son was healthy, slept like an angel, on a normal feeding and nap schedule that would make some mothers envious; she should be on top of the world. The fact that she wasn't was actually a little embarrassing, and there was no way that she'd ever tell anyone about it- because she'd look like a spoiled bitch.

Quite simply, Suzanne felt like shit because she was horny as all fuck.

It had been almost a week since she'd had sex and she was pretty sure that she was starting to go through withdrawals from her husband's gorgeous body. Eames had been so busy with grading mid-term exams for the four classes that he was teaching, and his recent promotion to Chair of the English department at Bowdoin College, that he'd been putting in long days and was exhausted when he finally came home. He'd actually fallen asleep last night as she was just starting to kiss her way down his chest.

She frowned at her own foolish thoughts; she was frustrated because her husband wasn't screwing her enough, which would have been a legitimate gripe if she wasn't married to a smokin' hot British accented sex god and her sex life _didn't _normally consist of multiple orgasms on a daily basis. She really needed to shut up, because there was a time in her life where she actually had to change the batteries in her vibrator weekly because she was using it so much.

Suzanne shook her head and walked into the kitchen, moving the monitor to the counter as she sniffed appreciatively at the beef stew that was simmering in the slow cooker. It was a damp and miserable day in early March, and it was going to be a deliciously perfect dinner with some warm bread and a nice glass of red wine. Maybe she ought to make sure to be a decent wife for a change and draw him a nice warm bath tonight after the baby went to bed, no sex, just a long soak...and maybe a massage.

She stared down at the black leggings and the voluminous cranberry colored cowl neck sweater she was wearing that hid the last five stubborn pounds that she couldn't lose in her belly, she wondered if she should change into something a little sexier for him. It certainly couldn't hurt.

That was the other thing that was constantly nagging at her. She'd gained almost forty pounds with her son William, and while she was admittedly _very _slender when she got pregnant, and had lost most of the weight and still had a fantastic body, the little pouch of flesh on her stomach made her self-conscious. It didn't help that her beautiful husband was constantly surrounded by 20 year old co-eds with stick figures and perfectly perky tits that hadn't been swollen with milk and chewed on for six months. Despite all her intelligence, Suzanne couldn't help but recognize that she was getting older…and well, would there come a time when her husband didn't want her?

The sound of the front door opening and the dog's claws excitedly clicking across the hardwood floor startled her and she whirled around just in time to see her husband dump his coat and laptop bag on the couch and stalk across the room, his stormy grey eyes burning into hers as he grabbed her without a word and pulled her into a passionate kiss.

Suzanne gasped and moaned as his tongue plunged deep into her mouth and his full lips literally devoured her. He pulled away and she fought to catch her breath as she stared at him with lust and confusion in her green eyes. "Baby, what are you doing home early, is everything alright?"

"Perfectly fine, love," He growled as he began to kiss her neck, pulling the wide collar of her sweater off her shoulder and letting his mouth explore the pale skin. "I finally finished _everything_ today and I told my teaching assistant Jonah to take my last class because I felt bloody awful."

"Are you coming down with something?" She asked in a whisper as his solid form pressed her against the edge of the kitchen counter and she had to suppress the urge to rub against the straining hardness she felt. A deep breath filled her nostrils with the musky scent of his cologne and sent her heart racing with want.

Eames smiled against her neck as he gently nuzzled up to her ear where he nipped her earlobe with a playful bite. "I'm afraid I might be dying, my love."

"What are you talking about?" Suzanne laughed as his hands came around to grab her backside, palming the soft skin with a firm grip as he held her closer.

"It's been almost seven days since I've had you," He growled. "And I can't bear another minute without burying myself into you and feeling you come."

Her entire body ignited at his rough, desperate tone, and she could feel the hot wetness pool between her thighs. She trembled from the feeling of lust and desire that came humming to the surface of her skin her voice was shaking when she finally spoke, "I missed you so much, baby."

Eames hefted her up and carried her to the sturdy kitchen table before he tugged her sweater off and Suzanne immediately took the hint, wiggling out of her leggings and socks and pulling off her bra as he stripped off his mismatched sport coat, pants, atrocious striped blue polyester shirt, socks and shoes in seconds. He stared at her naked body before him, the curves of her hips and breasts still rounded from her pregnancy, recalling the gorgeous figure she had when he first met her.

"My beautiful Botticelli goddess," He mumbled as he spread her legs and stepped between them, running his rough palms up her pale, soft skin. "I want to worship your body for hours."

She bit her lip playfully as she stared up at his lust filled gaze, realizing that all her earlier thoughts and worries about his attraction to her was foolish. After all they had fought through to be with one another, their love was something beyond the physical, it transcended to another level. "I think your son is going to cut that short, Mr. Eames, we have another forty-five minutes at best."

"Well then, _Mrs_. Eames," He purred as his fingers began to tease the soaking wet skin between her legs, gently rubbing against the little stiffening button at the apex, with each pass, "We shouldn't waste a moment then, should we, darling?"

Suzanne arched her back as her legs opened wider to give him more freedom to touch her; he had barely taken his perfect, thick erection in his hand, giving it a long stroke when there was a loud knock at the front door. They both froze, and she suddenly became very aware that they were both stark naked in front of the sliding glass door that looked out over her backyard.

The knock came again, and Eames turned to the sound with a clenched jaw. "Can I help you?" He spoke out, irritation seething in his tone. He kept stroking his cock with his hand, and Suzanne whimpered at the sight. She wanted him so bad she could cry.

"I have an important delivery for Suzanne Eames," A hesitant voice answered through the door.

"Go ahead and leave it mate, she's unavailable at the moment."

"Um, I need a signature for it."

Eames snarled, "Either leave it, or fuck off and come back later, I'm delivering my own package to her right now."

It was silent and Suzanne tried not to be absolutely mortified at what was happening, but before she could say anything he suddenly rubbed the blunt tip of himself into her warmth before he snapped his hips and breached her with one solid thrust. It wrenched a moan out of both of them, and she had to bite down hard on her cheek to keep from screaming out at the intense pleasure that ripped through her, mindful of her son sleeping upstairs.

He paused for a moment, chest heaving, as he grabbed her ass in his palms and lifted her off the table. Her legs were unabashedly spread wide and she looked up at him with a shuddering breathy plea, "Hard and fast, baby, please. I need you so bad I can't stand it."

"As you wish, love."

It was incredible. Suzanne let herself lie flat on her back and take it all as he began a furious, pounding rhythm with his hips, hitting her so hard and so deep the sound of flesh on flesh began to echo through the house. She licked her lips and couldn't stop the moans and the dirty nonsensical ramblings that escaped her mouth. If she was in any sort of right mind, she would have been amazed at the way he still could turn her from an articulate business woman to a wanton lusty creature that would have made a porn-star blush in only minutes. _You are the fucking king…baby…I love your gorgeous cock… ooohhh GOD…give it to me… harder…_harder_…make me come…_

Everything inside her clenched tight and as his cock met and re-met the perfect little magic spot inside before it touched her cervix over and over again, the sensation was driving her insane and she knew she was only going to get off once and it was going to be spectacular.

She felt him harden and swell to that impossible thickness as he concentrated hard on the moment and stared into her flushed and passion darkened eyes, "Let me feel you, darling, go on and milk me dry, I'm done for."

Seconds later she detonated, her hand flying up to her mouth to smother the scream that was ripped from her lungs as her insides quaked and clenched wildly on his staff and Eames threw his head back and groaned lowly as he emptied himself into her with a long, hot burst of seed. He continued to pump into her gently as they both rode the aftershocks of a soul-shattering climax.

"I love you, Annie," He smiled as he leaned his forehead onto her panting chest and nuzzled against her breasts like a large, content cat, staying firmly nestled inside her warm depths.

Slowly Suzanne came back to herself and she couldn't help but chuckle, "I can't believe you said that."

"Said what, love?"

"That you have a _package_ to give me," She smirked. "I'm going to have to go down to the post office to sign for that you know. I'm going to be _that _lady. This is Maine, everyone knows everyone."

Eames laughed, "I'm sorry, temporary insanity brought on by the sight of my stunning naked wife after a week of no sex."

"I suppose I forgive you." The two of them were quiet for just a moment longer until a small cry came out of the baby monitor. Suzanne scratched the top of his head, "Time to go for now, Daddy, but what do you think about you and I soaking in a nice bath tonight after dinner with a glass of wine?

"Sounds delicious, Mum."


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: So I have no idea where this came from, I was just sitting all calm and the Muse slapped me upside the head and I have this little piece. I wanted to send this off to analuziamira who asked for a little bit that showed Eames' insecurities as a dad. And also, I really didn't mean this to be so depressing in the middle…but I am pretty sure that stuff would never go away no matter how much you had moved on in your life.**

**We also have the introduction of Rachel in here! She's the little bundle of joy they worked so hard on the night of Arthur and Ariadne's wedding ;-)**

**Please read and review! And PLEASE give me some suggestions! I have a couple rolling around, but I'd really love to hear from you all…honestly! **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Eames grumbled as he sorted through another batch of essays, he generally found a particular enjoyment in teaching the class on Jane Austen that the University offered once every couple years, but this group of students was challenging to say the least. If he read one more interpretation of 'Pride and Prejudice' that was premised on the 2005 feature film he was going to lose it. He flipped off his wire-rimmed reading glasses and rubbed his tired eyes. The sight of the frames sitting on his work was enough to make him crack a wry smile and momentarily forget his aggravation.

He'd started wearing them six months ago. It was admittedly a bit of a kick to the ego that around his 44th birthday, he found himself having to practically press his nose against papers, books and his computer screen to read them. Naturally his beautiful and observant wife hadn't missed it. Suzanne had nagged him for the better part of a month to go to the eye doctor, and despite his stubborn insistence that he was just fine, she'd won.

Of course it didn't help that she'd teased him mercilessly, and honestly, he was in no condition to argue with her at all when she kissed down his stomach and took him in her mouth with a devilish smile on her red lips.

He chuckled to himself at the thought that even two children hadn't managed to distract Suzanne from being an utter sexual goddess, and after being married to her for almost ten years he was quite sure that was one thing that would never change. He loved her more than anything, and it only seemed to grow with time.

His revelry was cut short when his desk phone rang. He picked it up and cleared his throat, "This is Edward Eames; may I help you?"

"Ah, yes, Mr. Eames this is Principal Morrissette, from Boothbay Region Elementary School. I need to speak with you about your son William."

At the mere mention of his son's name he sat up ramrod straight. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes, though I am afraid he's been in a fight at recess, and I am going to have to ask you to come pick him up. He asked specifically for you."

Eames stared at the clock, his classes were over for the day, but he had been planning to work for a while on some of his papers. But the demands of his family always came before anything else. "Thank you sir," He spoke with a sigh. "I'll be there in a half an hour."

* * *

He walked into the school after an uneventful drive, heading into the main office of the bright building. There was a smiling lady in her mid-thirties at the desk who looked up at him with a bashful, self-conscious smile as he asked for the Principal's office. It was the little stroke to his male vanity that he needed, apparently even though he was no longer on the good side of forty, he still had it.

After a moment or two he was led into a small corner office and met the rather portly form of Dr. James Morrissette. The short man extended his hand and Eames instantly took it, smiling shortly as he walked to the man's desk to see his son sitting in one of the chairs off to the side. His new blue jeans that Suzanne had bought only a week or two ago were dirty with one knee torn. He could see a little blood stain, and underneath it there was a band-aid that must have meant he made a trip to the school nurse. But other than his clothes being a little rumpled nothing seemed to be too wrong with him.

He took a seat and the Principal spoke immediately. "I am sorry to bring you down here this afternoon, Mr. Eames, especially under these circumstances."

Eames nodded and stared at his son, who was still looking at the floor, his posture rigid. "What happened?"

"I have been trying to get to the bottom of that myself." The older man added as he adjusted his glasses. "Unfortunately there wasn't a teacher that was there at the time to witness everything that happened. Suffices to say that William apparently struck another student, Eric Johnson and they both proceeded to get into a little tussle."

Eames frowned instantly and turned to William a tinge of irritation coloring his tone, "That true, son? Did you instigate this?" Will remained silent and he could see his little fists curling into a ball. He cleared his throat as a signal that he was not asking a question that was optional to answer before he spoke again, "Son, I'm talking to you. What do you have to say for yourself?"

The boy lifted his head and flashed the same bright green eyes that his mother had, and there was no mistaking the fact that it was also his mother's temper that was raging behind them at the moment. He still said nothing; instead he simply stared back at the floor again.

Eames was genuinely baffled. Despite being highly intelligent, nearly two grade levels above where he was in several areas, and being fiercely independent, William was always perfectly behaved at school. He had been on the high honor roll since they started giving him grades, and he even volunteered to help other kids in the classroom when they fell behind. He was mature far beyond a normal nine-year-old. It didn't make any sense at all that he would suddenly become a troublemaker.

"I know that William has an exemplary behavior record, Mr. Eames, and I don't want to see it tarnished." The Principal said. "I'd like you to keep him home tomorrow. It is not a suspension, but I think it is best."

Eames agreed, "Thank you, Dr. Morrisette. His mother and I will have a talk with him this evening about his inappropriate behavior."

* * *

They walked out of the office just as the school began to dismiss for the day. Eames notified the office that he would be taking home his daughter as well, and he barely signed her out when the loud, cheerful squeal of his youngest, echoed through the hall.

"Daddy!" She shouted, running up to him and vaulting into his arms in the purple sweater, striped purple leggings and bright pink tutu that she insisted on wearing to school that morning.

If William was a combination of him and Suzanne's practical minds, then six-year-old Rachel was the embodiment of their pure creativity. Her raven hair was her mother's, but she had his eyes and his smile. She was constantly drawing and building things, always trying to make the world more colorful. It was something that they both nurtured in the little girl, despite the fact that she occasionally needed to be pulled back. Like the day that she painted poor Mr. Heathcliff a couple of years ago after being inspired by the "horse of a different color" in the Wizard of Oz.

"Thank you for picking me up from school." She beamed as he put her back down and unashamedly grabbed her bright pink backpack and tossed it over his shoulder before taking her little hand in his. "Can we have spaghetti for dinner?"

He laughed quickly and watched his son as he stormed off ahead of them towards his brand new black Audi A8 coupe, still not saying a word. "Well my bright little Rae of light, I am not sure what Mummy is making tonight, but we can see when we get home, is that alright?"

"Yup."

* * *

The car ride was silent, and Eames looked into the rear-view mirror at his son who was looking out the window with his arms folded. His light brown hair was mussed from the scuffle and for the first time he noticed a little scrape on the side of his face. "So, William, I am curious as to why you asked for me to be the one to pick you up from school if you were not going to say a word to me about this situation. You are going to prefer to discuss this with your mother and me when we get home?"

The boy looked back at him with anger in his eyes, "Why should I say anything. I am going to get in trouble no matter what, so why should I explain myself. You don't want to hear what happened, you just want me to admit I was wrong and apologize for something that I am not sorry for."

Eames' eyebrows rose at his son's answer and the tone of his voice. "Did you instigate the situation?"

"No," He grumbled back, "But I did hit him first."

Eames tapped the steering wheel, feeling a bit of irritation rise up at the way he was talking to him. "Is that the way I've taught you to conduct yourself as a man? What gives you the right to put your hands on another person, William?"

"This is exactly what I was talking about," William snapped angrily. "You don't even care."

His green eyes were beginning to fill up with tears and Eames shook his head. He was just about as intelligent as they came, he had an IQ well over 150, but there were times that his children made him feel like a simpleton. It was those times that he relied on his wife to help him. She had the family intelligence that he lacked, and she was able to show him how to understand the way they thought.

"Of course I care, son." He answered, being sensitive to the fact that he was looking at a young man tediously close to doing the most mortifying thing in the world, crying in front of his father. "Whatever would make you think that I wouldn't?"

William sniffled, and against his better effort the tears started to fall from his eyes. "You haven't even asked me what happened. You don't even want to know _why_ I did it."

Such simplicity that was overlooked. Eames sighed, a bit disappointed in himself before he asked him. "I'd like to hear it, if you'll explain it to me."

His son was crying hard now and it was something that ripped his heart out. William scrubbed at his eyes, and instead of his voice, Eames heard his daughter speak up. "Will was helping George Rosenthal on the playground at recess. Eric Johnson was picking on him because he doesn't have nice clothes."

"Is that true, William?" Eames managed to ask as he felt his own throat tighten.

The boy nodded and hiccupped miserably. "George is a really nice kid, and his Dad lost his job last year, so he didn't get new school clothes. He was getting picked on for no reason. I didn't want to hit Eric, Dad, but George was crying and I just got so mad. It's not fair to make someone feel like that over something so stupid."

"Why didn't you tell the Principal?" Eames managed to ask.

"Because he never gave me the chance, and I didn't want to bring any more attention to George. He doesn't need to be embarrassed about something that isn't his fault." Will answered.

He could actually feel his own tears stinging at the corners of his eyes. The memories came back with a vengeance, vicious little gnawing thoughts that danced in his ears. It had been over thirty-five years since he'd first walked into the prestigious Harrow school outside of London on a state sponsored scholarship, and the hurt was still as sharp and raw as if it had happened yesterday.

He'd been given a set of hand-me-down uniforms that were a tiny bit faded from washing, and though it was something so trivial that no one could really notice…it didn't stop the other children from pointing at him and making him feel like he might as well have been wearing a bright pink dress.

His accent didn't help either, he had a rather thick Yorkshire accent that screamed Sheffield when he'd started that might as well have been nails on a damn chalkboard. He'd stopped talking for almost a year, spending every single moment he could hiding in the toilet at night in front of the mirror willing the posh London sounding accent into his voice that he still had to this day.

"_Look at him; he looks like he rolled here from Sheffield, bet you he's covered in factory grease."_

"_Probably stole that uniform out of the trash, actually we should make sure we hide our garbage, don't want him picking through it."_

"_Listen to him, typical orphan charity case, gets in here on a free ride because he can't afford it and we have to pay for him."_

And not one person ever stood up for him.

Not once.

Eames was silent for the rest of the ride home. He didn't know what to say. There was a feeling of such ache in him and such pride at the way that his son had behaved he didn't know how to respond to it.

* * *

Suzanne was busy working in the new room that they'd had built onto the house as a state of the art office when Rachel was born and the other one was converted into her bedroom, when she saw Eames' car pull into the driveway. She was on her phone and had a puzzled look on her face when she heard the dog rush to the front door and noticed the three of them walking in.

Rachel instantly skipped over to give her a kiss, and William said nothing, just sullenly walking up into his room and closing the door. She quickly finished her conversation with a client out on the west coast before she walked into the kitchen to see her husband standing on the front porch, his back to the screen door staring out at the water.

Her daughter was smiling at her and she pointed up at the bowl of fruit on the breakfast bar, "Can I have a banana for my after-school snack, Mom?"

"Of course, honey," She smiled as she grabbed her one and peeled the top before handing it off. "What's going on with Daddy and Will?"

She couldn't help but smile at her little girl's wide grey eyes; she was already her little creative, bohemian empath, and there was no way this child wasn't going to be a nurturer of some sort. Then again, there was the very disturbing realization that the older she got the more Suzanne saw her own mother's intuition in her, Lord help her if she had a clone of her.

Rachel took a dramatic breath before she spectacularly began explaining things in a way that only a six-year-old could. "Will got in a fight at recess today, because he was helping George Rosenthal. He was getting picked on by Eric Johnson, because he doesn't have new clothes and Will didn't want to fight, but he didn't want to see George cry. But then on the way home from school he was telling Daddy and he started crying I think Daddy got sad because he was crying."

Suzanne smiled and kissed her on the forehead, "Thank you sweetie. Let's get you to do your homework, so Mommy can go talk to them." She nodded and climbed up onto one of the chairs as Suzanne opened her backpack and set out the relatively enjoyable homework of a first grader. "If you need help, you ask me."

"Okay," She smiled absently as she chewed on her banana and went right to her activity book.

Suzanne smiled as she walked out to the deck, taking a deep breath as the sweet, late September breeze filled her nose. She reached out to wrap her arms around her husband's waist as she rested her face against his broad, muscular back. "Are you alright, honey?"

Eames coughed and reached up to cover her hand in his, "No. I feel like shit, love."

His voice was rough, and she could hear the hurt in it, she tried to lighten it up just a little, "I got the 411 from mini-Pauline. You want to talk to me about it?"

"My son is a better man than I'll ever be."

Suzanne hugged him and coaxed him to turn around so she could look him in the eyes, and she reached up to cup his face. She gently stroked his smooth cheeks with her thumbs as she stared at the tears that were building in his stormy eyes. "That's not true, Edward. Your son is who he is because of you. Everything you have taught him, and showed him by being who you are, that is why he's so wonderful."

His full lips curled into a sad smile as he leaned down to kiss his wife tenderly. "I love you, Annie. What would I have done if I never walked into that warehouse, I would have been so lost without you."

"Oh, my love, I would have been just as lost," She whispered as she deepened the kiss before resting her forehead against his. "I might have ended up married to a tax accountant."

They both burst into laughter at the thought and he smiled as he kissed her again. "Don't even say that, darling." He growled playfully as he held her close for a few more moments. The couple held each other close and finally he pulled away, feeling a million times better about the situation.

"I'm going to go talk to him." He finally said with a sigh. "Oh, and before I forget, we have had a request for spaghetti for dinner from our little ballerina."

Suzanne quirked an eyebrow, "That's Will's favorite, not hers."

Eames looked through the glass door at his daughter who was cheerfully doing her work without a care in the world. "Yeah, I think she knew that when she asked for it, darling." He said quietly, unable to stop smiling at the wonderful children they had created.

* * *

He found his son just where he knew he would, sitting on his bed immersed in his school work with a dog eared copy of _The Lord of the Rings_ right next to him. Will's unusual reading habits had been a point of contention between Eames and his third grade teacher when he'd brought _The Hobbit_ into school the prior year to read. He was told that there was no way that an eight-year-old was capable of reading something like that, and after a rather heated argument, Suzanne had simply asked him to open up the book to the middle and read a page, and after William had rattled it off, pausing only to ask his father about the correct pronunciation of some of the elven language terms that were used, that had been the end of the discussion.

"Do you have a moment, son?" He asked quietly.

"Yeah," Will replied as he shrugged his shoulders. "I guess."

Eames walked into his room and sat a few feet away from him, unsure of where to begin something like this. It wasn't like he'd had many father/son moments…because frankly he'd had exactly zero. But thankfully his children had enough of his wife in them to know exactly what to say.

"I'm really sorry you had to leave work today, Dad." He said. "I know it is the start of school and you are usually busy."

"Nothing that can't be done tomorrow," Eames replied truthfully. "Look, William, I wanted to talk to you about what happened earlier. I wanted to apologize for not giving you the respect you deserve and asking you why something like that would have happened. I've always told you that I am in your corner, and I wasn't this afternoon. I'm sorry."

His son looked up from his math homework with another shrug, "It was a pretty normal conclusion to jump to, and you have another adult telling you what happened."

Eames couldn't help but laugh at his son, the boy was too damn smart for his own good. "Well, regardless, you are my son and I should defer to you."

"Apology accepted, Dad." He smirked with a laugh. "So what's the chance that I can spend tomorrow in the library at your work?"

Eames smiled as he ruffled his hair, "Sounds like a plan, son, just no picking up college age women, or your mother will kill you."

"Eww, seriously, Dad, no girls." William made a face. "Gross."

"Remind me of that mindset in a few years, yeah." He replied with a smirk as he stood up and walked to the door, stopping finally to turn around and look at the young man in front of him. "And William, I am very proud of what you did for that boy. It takes a man to speak out for another who needs it."

William nodded and a purely Eames-esque grin slid across his mouth, "Yeah, thanks Dad, but that wanker had been asking for a punch in the face for a long time."

Eames grinned back at his son's cheeky humor as he walked out of his bedroom to smell the scent of onions and garlic sautéing in the kitchen, perfuming the house with the promise of Suzanne's incredible pasta sauce. It was an instant feeling of comfort in what had otherwise been a trying afternoon. But somehow, despite having no earthly clue what he was doing, he was actually managing to be successful with this father thing. He suddenly frowned when he realized that he'd taken home work to do tonight and in the chaos of the afternoon he'd left his reading glasses on his desk.

Looks like grading papers was off the table this evening, now, just what sort of activities could he find to spend his thorough attention on? Ah, yes, it would be best to remind his wife that she made the right decision in Paris all those years ago.


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: So Miss Wynter wanted their first Valentine's Day as a married couple…so I give you this little whirlwind of semi-NSFW stuff. There is also an extra-special little nod to my girl and one of her amazing stories…won't be hard to find ; )**

**Also want to give a huge hug to Mals and her knowledge of all good-smelling things…**

**I am too lazy to edit this right now…I just wanna post! So I will clean it up if I find anything!**

**As always please read and review…it makes me a happy lady!**

* * *

Their first Valentine's Day as a married couple was supposed to be the first time they'd be able to get away for a weekend from the baby, and though Suzanne was a little anxious about it, she was more than looking forward to the romantic stay she had planned at the Kennebunkport Inn. They were going to have an elegant suite that overlooked the ocean, gourmet dinners, room service for the morning so they didn't have to get out of bed and a trip to the spa for a two-hour couples massage. It was two days alone with her sexy husband and she wanted nothing more than to make love to him every single minute they were away.

But that lovely excursion never happened.

Instead they spent their romantic weekend fighting the flu. Both of them had fevers over 102 degrees and there was a moment of agony where they were both sleeping curled up on the cool tile floor in the bathroom taking turns dry heaving in the toilet. It was so bad that her parents had come up to get Will and the dog, so the two of them didn't need to worry about anything but getting better. Her father had delivered a massive pot of chicken soup a day later, and it took an entire week before they were back on their feet again.

She was so disappointed, and Eames had promised her that he would make it up to her. And in the grand and utterly romantic style that only he could possess, in was a Wednesday in mid-March, just before spring break, when he calmly told her that they would be leaving the next evening for a long weekend in Paris.

At first she was furious, telling him that there was no way she could impose on her mother last minute to watch Will, and what were they going to do with Mr. Heathcliff, and she had clients and deadlines that needed to be met and he had classes to teach. She'd yelled, calling him irresponsible, that she couldn't believe after everything how completely thoughtless he could still be…Eames had calmly let her finish before he told her with an infuriating smirk on his beautiful mouth that he'd had this planned for weeks. Her parents were taking Will and the dog tomorrow afternoon, and he had talked to Nigel and her entire schedule was cleared out, and his last mid-term was the following day at eight in the morning.

"After that I'll be all yours, so there will be nothing for you to do but relax, darling," He chided playfully as he sauntered out of the room. "Well, relax and hold on for dear life as I ravish every inch of you all over our city."

* * *

Suzanne stepped out of Charles de Gaulle airport and breathed in the distinct blooming floral smell of Paris in the cool air of early springtime. It was funny; she hadn't spent any real time here since they first met almost six years ago, she'd actually avoided it like the plague when she was working for Jensen Holdings in LA, it had always been a place that brought back too many memories to face. And for a moment she was concerned that she would still be bothered about leftover hurt from her experiences here…but as her husband took her hand in his and pulled her close, she knew it was the most foolish thing in the world. They were finally back, together, where they had fallen in love.

Eames had certainly spared no expense on the little vacation. He had booked a prestige suite at the Le Meurice Hotel. He'd even paid extra to have the room ready for them when they arrived at the city at seven in the morning. Suzanne was awestruck as she stared at the luxurious fabrics and wood details that draped the room in a classically gorgeous antique Louis XVI style. Silvers and muted tones that made everything seem ethereal. A set of floor to ceiling doors opened up to an incredible view of the Tuileries Gardens that were just beginning to wake up with blooms from their long winter sleep, and finally the piece de resistance, a white marble bathroom complete with a huge soaking tub and a glass walled shower big enough for two.

She couldn't help but smile as she turned to see an exceedingly pleased look on his handsome face. He was no doubt thrilled with her obvious reaction to his plans, and as he calmly tipped the bellhop for delivering their bags he made sure to slip the "Do Not Disturb" sign on the outside of the door.

"Worth the trip, love?" He asked as he walked up to her and pulled her into a deep kiss. Suzanne could do nothing but gasp appreciatively as his hand cupped the back of her neck and coaxed open her mouth to let his tongue slide in with an erotic roll. They finally parted minutes later, both of them panting for air as their foreheads touched.

"Christ, Eames, if you don't make love to me in the next minute, I am going to lose my mind," She pleaded as she began to strip out of her light coat and the comfortable sweater and leggings she'd traveled in.

He grinned wolfishly as he tore off his own clothes in record time before scooping her into his arms and carrying her to the massive king sized bed and laying her on the soft, satiny comforter, amidst the pile of voluminous down pillows. As he always did, he took the time to stare at her, memorizing the way her ebony hair and her pale skin seemed to glow. She was still so goddamn beautiful he could barely stand it, and she was still smiling up at him, with a loving look in her emerald eyes that took his breath away.

"I love you, Annie," He whispered as he leaned down to take her mouth with his, the kiss suddenly turning from adoring and sweet to ravenous and needy in just seconds. Eames, for all his normal patience was too eager at the moment to do anything but wrap her long legs around his waist and take her fast and hard, greedy to start their passionate weekend on a glorious note.

And what a note it was. She came apart in a symphony of moans and keening wails as he brought her there over and over. His hips were brutally efficient with long, rocking strokes that caressed her insides, touching that special spot that tore her apart at the seams, and it wasn't long before he was with her in bliss growling out his own completion to the early morning.

Suzanne's heart was still racing as he gently rolled off of her and pulled her close to his body, nuzzling into her shoulder. "Spectacular, my love," He sighed as he stroked his warm hand down the soft skin of her hip, "Absolutely, delicious."

She smiled gently as she kissed the top of his head, "Mmm, it certainly was, baby." Her fingers threaded through his gelled hair and she scratched softly at his scalp as she felt herself start to close her eyes in sleepy contentment. "I'm going to fall asleep honey."

Eames lifted his head a mischievous smile on his full lips and a sparkle in his stormy eyes, "Oh, no, you can take a tiny nap, darling, we have a very full day planned today."

"Is that so?" Suzanne chuckled. "Doing what?"

"Strolling through this beautiful city, savoring the surroundings and making love as we go," He replied with a wink, "You know, love, what we do when we are in Paris together."

She bit her lip at his cavalier reply, instantly remembering the first time he'd said that to her, the morning after they'd made love for the first time. And then, as now, it sent an uncontrollable tremor of pure lust and want coursing through her body. "I can't wait," Was the only answer she could manage to formulate.

* * *

They enjoyed a quick wash in the huge, glass walled shower, washing off the six-hour plane flight and refreshing their bodies for the day ahead. Suzanne smiled as she walked out of the bathroom in a fluffy hotel robe; her hair blow-dried with large waves at the bottom to be met with a cup of café au lait, a warm, fresh, buttery croissant and sliced fresh fruit. She sipped at the warm drink with a sigh, there really was nothing like Paris. As they ate their small breakfast she reached over to her purse to fish out her phone to text her mother, she missed her son like crazy.

_Just wanted to let you know that we arrived, gorgeous here, miss you and my little man. Give him a hug and kiss and tell him Mommy and Daddy love him._

Eames seemed to sense her little sadness and he reached over from his chair to kiss her on the cheek, "I miss him too, love, but it's just a couple of days, yeah? I'm sure he won't even know we've gone."

She nodded as she leaned in to steal another kiss from his coffee warmed lips. "I know, baby, and there is _no_ place I would rather be right now. It's just a little funny not having a hungry little voice in my ear every couple hours demanding my attention."

He winked playfully at her, "Are you quite sure you won't have that? You know how hungry I get for you every few hours, darling."

"How could I forget," She rolled her eyes as she stood up and sauntered over to her suitcase to pick out her clothes for their walk.

She settled on a long heather grey skirt with a very light pink cashmere cowl neck sweater and a calf length pair of buttery soft flat leather boots. It was still a little chilly in Paris in the early spring, with temperatures in the low fifties, Fahrenheit, so she decided to wear her light spring pea coat and to be extra sure she tucked a small umbrella into her large purse with her gloves. She walked to the vanity in the sitting room to put on her makeup and she couldn't help but stare at her husband as he looked absolutely edible in charcoal grey pants, a somewhat matching heavier wool jacket and a maroon button up shirt that was strangely not made of the usual synthetic fiber he loved. He'd shaved his face too, and damn it all if he wasn't sex on two legs.

He frowned as he stared at the small bottle of cologne in his toiletry bag; the Musc Ravageur was almost gone. "Looks like we'll have to take a little detour," He mused as he met her eyes in the mirror. "Fancy a little trip to find a fragrance?"

"Sounds lovely," She answered as she walked over to slide her arms around his waist to bury her nose into the intoxicating smell of the cologne and his warm skin, "I've been thinking about finding something new myself, think you can help me with that?"

"Absolutely, love," He practically purred against her ear, "I think I find myself to be quite an expert where your skin is concerned, I have a feeling that finding something will prove wonderful for both of us."

* * *

It was a beautiful day in the city, sunny and mild, the temperature making their sensible clothing choices more than sufficient to stay warm. Suzanne was nestled comfortably in the crook of her husband's shoulder with her hand on his waist as his strong arm wrapped around her and held her close. It was a 20 minute walk from the hotel to Frederic Malle's flagship store on Rue Grenelle, and the path took them through the breathtaking beauty of the Tuilerie Gardens and across the Seine at the Pont Royal Bridge.

She found her eyes dancing up to the elaborate architecture of the buildings around her, and for the first time in years she felt a stirring deep inside of her, a need to design and create. Her mind began to race with a myriad of ideas and suddenly she wanted to sit behind a CAD driven computer…or even a huge piece of graph paper with a pencil and a piece of charcoal.

Eames didn't miss the shift; it was as if his wife was a delicate orchid that was finally blooming wide again. "We should build you a bigger office when we get home, darling," He said as he pressed his lips to her face with a smile, "One with room for a studio."

She laughed as she looked at him with excitement in her bright green eyes, "I can't believe it, I thought I'd lost my muse; apparently she was just on vacation."

"Fickle little things aren't they," He winked.

Suzanne's eyebrow arched into an expectant stare at his comment, he still hadn't let her read anything that he'd written for his original University work. It was driving her absolutely crazy, but he insisted that she couldn't see a single word until it was bound and published. He ignored the face she was making and instead steered her finally down the street to a simple, small storefront with a nondescript red awning.

* * *

The shop was elegantly modern, with simple décor, and the only thing that drew any attention at all was the odd, cylindrical, clear floor to ceiling tubes scattered throughout the store. Suzanne smiled at a young man who looked to be in his early 30's dressed immaculately in a lavender striped shirt and matching tie behind the simple counter. He regarded them both with a keen interest from behind a pair of very stylish black rectangular frames.

"_Bonjour."_

"_Bonjour," _She answered with a smile, instantly recognizing that her French was a bit rustier that she would have liked when she had to think long and hard about where to take the conversation. She needn't have worried; the attendant sauntered over and fixed them both with a grin.

"And how are you both this morning?" He asked in English without missing a beat.

"Very lovely, thank you." Suzanne answered, catching her husband out of the corner of her eye already looking at the simple little bottles of fragrance.

"My name is Michael; can I help you find something?"

"Oh, my husband and I are on vacation for the weekend, and he needed a refill," She explained as Eames finally settled on the largest bottle of his scent available, the $250.00 price tag was well worth it.

"Ah, the _Ravageur_, I think it fits," The young man commented as his brown eyes moved over Eames' muscular form. He took a deep breath and added seriously, "In fact I have never smelled it so musky before, truly Sir, your chemistry seems to bring it to another level."

Eames smiled slyly, "I've been wearing it for some time now, and I have been wanting to send Messieurs Malle and Roucel a letter of my humble appreciation. You see I would never have been able to seduce my wife without it." He paused for a moment and stared at Suzanne, unabashedly letting the lust darken his eyes, "Well, I would have, it just would have made for a less appealing sensory experience."

Even after all these years he could still make her feel like the nervous woman in the warehouse. The naïve girl that was amazed that a man like him, so full of mystery and overflowing with life, wanted _her_. And when the very interested attendant turned to look at her she could tell that her pale cheeks were colored with blush.

"But enough of me," Eames drawled with a lazy smile, "We'd like to find my lovely Annie something that will compliment her exquisite personal perfume."

Michael nodded, "I see, what do you normally wear?"

Suzanne took a deep breath, "I've always worm something simple, like lavender or vanilla. Everything seems to turn to sweet florals on me after a while, so I stay away from anything like that."

"She's far too sophisticated for simple," Eames commented absently as his fingers moved across the various bottles in the collection, reading the descriptions before he settled on a small sample of _Dans tes Bras. _Michael was just about to speak when a small group of about ten or so people walked into the door, it didn't take much to figure out that they were going to need to have much more in the way of help than the two of them. Eames took one look at the young man and nodded to the crowd, "Go on, I can help my wife, darling. Besides, I am going to want to smell this on her skin for a bit until we make our decision."

"Help yourself to the sample, and please, take your time, Sir," He answered with a wink before walking off to meet the crowd.

"I think you have a fan," Suzanne smiled as her husband chuckled to himself.

"Mmm, perhaps," He mumbled as he took her hand and walked across the small shop to find a secluded corner where he slid her hair off of her shoulder to expose the graceful column of her throat. "But right now I am rather interested in smelling that sweet skin of yours." He opened the small bottle and dabbed a bit of the fragrance behind her ear before replacing the cap.

Suzanne closed her eyes as she caught a wonderful smell of violets, and something deeper, earthier, like a rich moss. Eames leaned in and cupped the other side of her face and neck so he could bury his nose behind her ear and take a deep breath. "It translates to 'into your arms'," He whispered as his lips brushed her ear. "It smells divine on you, love."

"It's a little strange," She managed to speak as she felt his mouth touch her neck in feather light kisses. "I don't think I've smelled anything like it."

Eames chuckled in a rumbling laugh before his voice dropped to a husky whisper, "It's unique, intimate, deep, quietly sensual, and utterly intoxicating…_Je veux te lécher des hanches jusqu'aux pieds."_

Suzanne was trembling with want and desire as his warm tongue snaked out to take her ear lobe into his mouth with an insistent pull, her mind tried to translate, and she moaned quietly when the words registered, "I want to lick you from your hips to your toes."

"Why have we never talked dirty in French?" She gasped with a smile as he pressed his body into her.

"I have no earthly idea, darling, but this does seem like the time to start," He mused as he kissed her neck again, "_Je bande por toi._"

Her hand snaked down the front of his hard body to find the proof of his statement waiting for her, and _God_ yes, he was hard for her. A flood of liquid lust flooded from her molten core and she wanted him so damn bad inside her she was aching, "I need you." She whispered.

Suddenly the sound of an amused throat clearing echoed from behind them and they both jumped slightly.

Eames pulled away and turned to meet the raised eyebrow of the attendant, "I see everything is going well over here."

"Absolutely, mate," He answered with a roguish smile, "Merely trying to elevate her body temperature to see the fragrance bloom on her skin, but unfortunately I just don't think I can get the heat I need in here. But I will take a 100 ml bottle, as well as one of the _Ravageur _as well."

"Good choice, Sir," He answered with a smirk as Eames handed over his credit card.

* * *

Moments later, they stepped out onto the street, and she barely got her bearings before Eames was pulling her down the street as they searched for the nearest place to be alone. Suzanne's heart was pounding and she couldn't stop the giddy smile that stretched across her face. Here they were after so long, a married couple, parents of an eight-month-old son and they were running to look for a bathroom to have sex in like they were horny teenagers- it was incredible.

Suddenly a flash of baby blue caught her eye and she skidded to a stop, Eames' hand sliding out of hers as she stared at the beautiful storefront. It was a Christian Louboutin store, and the new summer line was just debuting.

"Shoes, love, honestly, _now_?" He grumbled with a smile.

"They are so pretty though," She pouted as he shook his head, taking two steps before scooping her into his arms bridal style. She squealed in surprise as he kissed her hotly, his tongue delving deep into her mouth.

"They are," He conceded, "And I can think of nothing hotter than when I see those stilettos resting on my shoulders when I am fucking you like a madman, but right now I could give a shit. If I don't get you against a wall with your legs around my waist I am going to burst."

"I wouldn't want that," She whispered wantonly as he set her back down. "I can see a café at the end of the street."

* * *

The two of them snuck into the bustling café and quickly made their way to the tiny bathroom without saying a word. Suzanne reached under her skirt to shimmy out of her delicate pink lace panties and dangle them in his face with a sly, playful swing. "Care to hold these for me?"

Eames growled as he unfastened his belt, tore open his pants and reached under her skirt to grab her by the thighs to move her up and down onto his rock hard cock. "I'd love them between my teeth, darling, but then I couldn't kiss you. So be a good girl and put them in my pocket."

She couldn't respond as he began to hit her hard and fast, his hips both snapping up and still grinding against her clit with agonizing pressure. Her heart was racing, and her insides were twisting and coiling, she could feel the wetness he created every time he stroked her hot spot inside starting to cover the both of them. For a moment she was concerned she was going to get her clothes soaked, but that worry fluttered away when she felt her orgasm imminent. It was excruciating and glorious at the same time, her thighs tensed and it was the sound of her husband's grunts and groans in her ear that finally sent her over the edge.

She came in a blinding rush and it only seemed to charge him more, his hips somehow speeding up to a blistering pace as he pounded her into the wall before finally releasing with a chocked snarl in her ear, the strength of his climax managing to send Suzanne into another one.

Her legs were shaking as he gently set her down. "Oh, my God," She whispered as she reached for some paper towels to try to dry herself. "I can't even think straight."

Eames chuckled as he tucked his shirt back into his pants, "Than my weekend getaway has been a success, love, because I don't want you to do anything but feel."

She smiled as they casually walked out of the café and into the busy street, "Care for a snack?" He asked as he snuggled her close, kissing the top of her head.

Suzanne nodded, "Mmm, I am craving some oysters and white wine."

"Ah, decadent and satisfying," He murmured against her face, "Sounds perfect."

* * *

The Café Nouvelle Mairie was not far from the Pont Royal Bridge, and the couple sat in a cozy little corner nook as they sipped on wine, and feasted on a plate of raw oysters and a heaping serving of mussels that were simmered in a buttery garlic sauce. It was the perfect meal to savor with a warm, crusty baguette and with her post orgasmic haze still humming through her system Suzanne couldn't have been more satisfied and relaxed. She absently stared across the table at her handsome husband and watched as his fingers absently caressed the stem of his wine glass as he stared out into the street.

His sharp grey eyes were following people as they milled about and she couldn't help but wonder just what their lives would have been like if Mallorie had never died. Would they have just continued to travel the globe in a blissfully decadent life? Would they have grown tired of one another, or would they have eventually ended up just where they were now?

She couldn't help but think that everything that had happened to them was supposed to happen. Any arbitrary twist or turn and they could have ended up elsewhere, some place different, and they would have been different. A memory of Will's chubby cheeks crossed her mind and she realized that she would not trade any of it. The hurt and the pain that they had both lived through had brought them to where they were today, and she wouldn't trade one single moment of tears for all the smiles they had now.

"What are you thinking, my love?" Eames asked quietly, pulling her out of her revelry.

"How far we've come," She answered simply, "And how I wouldn't have it any other way."

He smiled and reached across the table to take her hand, rubbing across the simple emerald and diamond wedding band. "We would make a poor Cathy and Heathcliff if there were no tears," He smirked as he squeezed her hand. "But I do hope you are in the mood to reminisce this evening."

Suzanne tilted her head, puzzled at his cryptic remark, "What are you talking about?"

"Dinner plans." Eames smirked. "Ones I don't think you'll soon forget."

* * *

They meandered around the Tuiliere Gardens until it was almost five pm, and after a short walk back to the hotel they drew a nice warm bath and soaked in the huge marble tub, luxuriating in the fragrant bath oil and each other's body. From there they moved to the shower to rinse off, and when the sight of his wife's wet, oiled body became too much to bear, Eames gently bent her over the shower seat and took her from behind in a quick, but incredibly satisfying mount.

She was curling the ends of her hair when she saw him fiddling with his suitcase and pulling out a brand new suit to wear to dinner. He'd asked her to wear the little black dress she'd packed, and the moment she did, she figured out his little plan. They were going to recreate their first date at Le Meurice's five star restaurant. Admittedly she was very excited, the food had been incredible, and he'd seduced her like she never thought possible, but to be honest a little part of her was also disappointed. It seemed too easy for him, showing none of the usual flare and imagination that he always prided himself in.

But she would never say anything like that. Instead she fished through her underwear until she found a lacy emerald green bra, thong and garter belt set that she clipped her nude thigh-high stockings with. Her dress was very simple, just a fitted sheath dress with a scoop neck that showcased her cleavage and her curves to perfection. She wore a ¾ length cap sleeved top to keep her exposed arms warm and she went dramatic on her makeup, lining her eyes with kohl liner and smoky grey shadow and a blood red lip. She finished off the entire ensemble with her favorite black stilettos and a spray of her new fragrance.

She was admiring the fact that she had finally managed to lose the stubborn five pounds that had clung to her belly after Will's birth. But her curves she'd kept, per Eames' request.

The man himself finally came strolling out of the bathroom in an almost black charcoal grey suit and a rich navy colored shirt and tie that brought out the blue hues in his pewter eyes. His face was smooth and she could smell the wafting cloud of musky cologne as it tickled her nose. He stopped mid-step to appraise her with a hungry stare, his full, plump mouth curled into a grin and he shook his head, "Darling, we are going to have to get a move on."

"Why's that?" She murmured as she walked up to him and ran her palms up the front of his chest as she leaned into his strong body.

He chuckled darkly as she stared at her glossy red lips, "Because I want to throw you on every surface in this room and see how loud I can make you scream my name, but I have plans, and as appealing as that is, we will have to wait for later."

"Thankfully we aren't going far," She answered.

Eames smiled as he picked up her coat, "Are you so sure?"

* * *

Suzanne was genuinely puzzled as they sat in the back of a taxi and drove into the winding streets of Montmartre that she hadn't seen in so very, very long. They got out a few blocks from the Basilica of Sacre Coeur, and he held her hand as they walked towards a group of apartment buildings that she knew all too well.

"What in God's name are we doing down here?" She asked as he navigated through the alleyways until she was only a block away from the old apartment that she had shared with Mallorie during her years at school in Paris.

"I thought it would be nice to start our night tonight where we both began," He mused with a smile, "To begin at the beginning so to speak."

Eames was just about to add another cryptic comment when they came to the corner of the street and not twenty feet away his sharp eyes caught sight of yellow police tape and broken glass littering the sidewalk right where Suzanne's old apartment was. His honed instincts kicked in and he threw out his arm, shielding his wife and pushing them both into a line of shadows in the alleyway. He stared into the street, trying to discern what he could from the single streetlight that illuminated the area in a dull glow. It was funny how the situation instantly had his adrenaline rushing, and he felt a tingling of excitement that traveled through his body. The thrill of this sort of moment never, ever would go away, thief or not.

"What's going on?" She whispered nervously.

Eames continued to stare at the scene and shrugged his shoulders, "Not sure, love, looks like a little trouble…" His words trailed off as two figures suddenly appeared from the door of the apartment. They were dressed in dark colors and stuck to the shadows.

Suzanne squinted and tried to make out the features of the men. They were both young, she could tell that simply by the way they moved, but try as she might she couldn't make anything out. "Do you think we should call the police?"

He shook his head, "Judging by the way they are moving I am going to go out on a limb and say they are special ops of some sort, CIA, MI6 or something." He was mumbling as he leaned further towards the action and Suzanne grabbed his hand and gave him a sharp tug to snap his head back to look at her.

"I think it's time we left, Mr. Eames." Her voice was calm and he stared into her green eyes as she continued. "That time is long behind us."

He smiled as he turned his back to the scene, "You are right, darling, another world, another time. Let's go."

They walked back to the main street and Eames checked his phone for a moment, smiling before he hailed a cab.

* * *

Eames whispered the address to the driver as he slid into the back seat with her, pulling a black silk scarf out of the pocket of his coat and dangling it in front of her eyes with a smirk on his face. "I'm afraid this is where I have to blindfold you, love."

"What are you talking about?" She laughed as she raised her eyebrow.

"Don't you trust me?" He purred as he leaned in to kiss her neck, trailing his tongue up to her ear, where the husky timbre of his voice instantly made her damp with want. "I promise it will be worth it."

"I trust you, Edward," She answered as she closed her eyes and turned her head so he could gently tie the scarf over her eyes. When he was satisfied that she couldn't see anything he pulled her into his arms and held her close for the remainder of the short taxi ride.

Suzanne tried as hard as she could to figure out just where they were she had once known these streets so well that she could have navigated all of Montmartre and Pigalle with her eyes closed, but too much time had passed. It was another ten minutes before the cab stopped and Eames helped her out; she stood helplessly as he paid the attendant and moments later she felt his arms around her as he led her forwards.

"Where am I?" She asked with a smile.

"You'll see soon," was the only answer she received. "We have a little bit of stairs climbing to do," He said as her heels moved from cobblestones to the hardwood floors of a building. "I am going to bend down to take off your shoes to make it easier."

"Alright," Suzanne replied as she felt his rough, warm hands trace down her legs, ghosting across her nylons as he lifted first one foot, and then the other.

Her heart was racing as he helped her find the stair railing and then they began to climb. She counted the number of landings and steps, and finally as she reached the top of the last one a wash of adrenaline began to rush through her body. It was the fifth floor. There was only one place in Paris they had ever spent time that was on the fifth floor.

Eames bent down to gently slide her shoes back on, and kept hold of her hands as he placed his voice to her ear. "Do you know where you are?"

"I think so," She answered breathlessly.

He reached up to slip off the silk tie, and she gasped as she stared at the rust red door of number five Rue Cachois. It was Eames' old apartment. He unlocked the door and as it opened Suzanne's hand flew up to her mouth in absolute shock and her eyes watered with tears.

"Happy belated Valentine's Day, my love," Eames said as he led her into the apartment.

She could scarcely process the scene in front of her. Every surface of the apartment was covered in the flickering glow of candles, and it took her a moment to recognize that everything was just as she remembered it. The small bathroom, the antique tub in the corner, the kitchen with its sleek, modern appliances, the massive California king bed in the middle of the room covered with pillows and downy blankets, and finally the antique butcher block table that was set for a sumptuous meal for two, a deep breath instantly confirmed the cast iron pot on the stove contained coq au vin.

Suzanne was crying freely now and she turned to her husband with awe and love shining in her teary eyes. "How…I…I don't know what to say."

"I love you, Suzanne," He whispered as he closed the door and walked up to take her lips in a slow, passionate kiss before resting his forehead on hers. "I wanted to give you this place, our place; I wanted to be here with you the way I should have been back then."

In the flickering light she could see the emotion swirling in his eyes and the love she felt for him at the moment swelled in her chest. It was so much it hurt, and she could do nothing but hold him as he cleared his throat. "Somehow, I knew when you walked through that door the first night that I never wanted to let you go."

He stepped away from her and reached into the back of his coat to pull out a thin book that he handed over with a smile. "There will never be enough words to tell you how I feel about you, and the ones I can find pale in comparison to what we have. There is nothing on this Earth that can possibly describe it, but I did try my love."

Suzanne looked at the book in her hands; it was a plain emerald green color with gold lettering, _What's Simple and True, By E. Charles Eames._

It was his book.

She opened it up and flipped through it, noticing that it was divided by the days and years that they had spent together, and apart. Poems and thoughts about love, family, heartache, betrayal, redemption, it was the story of their life through his eyes.

The dedication was the last thing she saw.

_For my Annie_

_Through you all things became possible, my eyes opened the first day I saw you, and when the time comes for them to close, I pray it will be your face that brings me home._

'_Till I die love, always_

"Oh, Edward," She managed to speak as her throat tightened up with emotion as she stared into the face of the man that had stolen her heart the moment he set eyes on her in that warehouse all that time ago and had never let it go. "My God, I love you."

* * *

**Do we need a Part Two?!**


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: And here we have part two…which is sexy…and Parisian…and actually amusing too…God I love these guys.**

**As always reviews are love…and ideas too…it's cliché I know, but we may need a holiday one… 'tis the season after all… ; )**

* * *

Suzanne awoke to the most wonderful and delicious sense of déjà vu. She opened her eyes and smiled lazily as she smelled the aroma of eggs and a good English breakfast cooking. She stretched her body and buried her face in the cranberry colored pillowcase, savoring the faint smell of his cologne that still clung to it, and the sweet smell of their lovemaking that seemed to perfume the bed. It was as if she had fallen asleep and somehow traveled back in time to the first morning she woke up in this place.

But as the ring on her left hand would attest to…this wasn't back then. It was still the same roguish man that had stolen her heart, but last night, after they savored a mouth-watering feast and drank a bottle of sweet champagne, it was her husband that set her on the antique butcher block table to make love to her. And it hadn't stopped there. Suzanne couldn't be sure if it was the alcohol, the city, or their surroundings back where their love affair began, but his stamina had been almost super-human.

He'd had her screaming on the table, taking her with frantic almost animal passion, before he slowed his pace and carried her over to the cool glass of the balcony door where he pressed her against it and whispered into her ear as he drove her over the edge again and again. She didn't know where she found the strength to breathe as he carried her back to the bed and finally lay her down on the soft, downy sheets as he stretched his strong body over hers and made love to her so slowly and so completely that when she finally came and took him with her, tears were streaming down her cheeks.

A huge smile was on her face as she sat up to see him standing in the kitchen in that disgustingly tacky plaid robe that was threadbare and beyond saving, but he refused to get rid of, as he maneuvered their breakfast around the stove like a pro. He looked back over his shoulder and winked at her. "Good morning, my gorgeous, ravishing, stunning wife. Can I get you some coffee?"

"Mmm, that sounds lovely."

Eames grabbed a cup and decanted her a perfect cup of steaming liquid from the French press on the table, before adding the cream and two sugars he knew she loved and walking it over to the bedside where he placed it on the little side table and sat down next to her. "Can I have a kiss, love?" He asked with a smile as he pulled the sheet from her body, exposing her chest to his hungry stare.

Suzanne smiled and leaned in, letting him take her mouth in a deep, needy kiss. She pulled away a moment later with a sly smile on her face, "I feel like we've done this before, Mr. Eames."

"Oh, we have, my love," He laughed, nudging her back so she was lying down once again as he finished pulling the covers back to expose her body. "And if my memory serves, you usually like a quick fuck before you eat breakfast when you are in this particular apartment. And it just so happens I have timed it just so we have a few spare minutes as the sausage and mushrooms are cooking."

She bit her lip as she went for the tie on his robe, instantly moaning softly as she parted the fabric to find him already hard and straining for her. She pulled it off his shoulders and arched her back as he settled between her thighs, instantly sliding into her welcoming heat with a slow thrust before he began to move with deep, rocking hits.

"You feel amazing, darling," He growled as he leaned his mouth to her ear, picking up the pace of his hips. "I love fucking you like this, all day, every day, anytime I want. It still feels like a dream."

Suzanne gasped as she felt it already beginning deep inside her, "It's not a dream,_ oohhh, _I'm yours, Edward, only yours…always." Her voice was low and breathy, and her words only seemed to drive him further and further into a passion-filled haze.

"Yes," He murmured against her neck as he felt her body begin to tremble and hum from the inside. "That's it, my darling wife, come for me, mmm let me feel it."

She felt her entire body shake and tingle, and finally she was there with a loud moan. Her insides trembled and shook as her walls began to flutter and squeeze against the rock hard flesh that was buried deep inside, her climax pulling him into one only moments later. There was that sensation of impossible stiffness before warmth followed as he spilled his seed deep within her body. They lay entwined in each other's arms for a moment before Eames spoke, lifting his head to stare down at her with a lazy smile stretching his decadent, full lips.

"Do you ever think about us having another baby?"

Suzanne quirked her head to the side as she looked up at him trying to gauge his emotions, "I suppose, I mean, sometimes I do…do you?"

"All the time," He answered honestly. "And not that William isn't the light of my life, because he's everything to me; but I'd like to be there when you find out this time. I want to go to bed at night and make love to you and know that we are trying to make a little life."

"Oh," Was all she could say back to him. "Then maybe in a little bit? A year or two, would that be alright?"

"Of course, my love, we have time," Eames replied with a smile as he sniffed the air appreciatively, "But first things first, after last night I am so famished I think I could eat my way through France."

* * *

The two of them enjoyed a wonderful breakfast spread out all along the table, eggs scrambled to perfection, freshly made sausage, a slice of ham, hash browns, fried mushrooms and onions and a thick slice of tomato finished off with a toasty baguette. Snuggled in her plush robe, Suzanne eagerly devoured her plate and smiled at him as she looked around to appreciate the surroundings of a place that had once been so very familiar to her.

She smiled at their luggage stacked in the corner that he'd had delivered from the hotel last night before they arrived. He'd thought of everything, the meal last night, the candles, and a stocked fridge. "Can I ask how you pulled this off?" She smiled, "The apartment, dinner…everything."

Eames wiped his mouth on a napkin and smiled as he sipped his coffee, "You should know better than to ask a magician to reveal his secrets, love."

She rolled her eyes playfully, "Come on, don't make me coerce you, we both know I'll win."

They stared at one another for a moment as if reliving the moment in LA when she'd fallen to her knees and quite convincingly gotten him to give up each and every detail that he had about Cobb and the Fischer inception using her mouth and her tongue in a very wicked way.

"Mmm, now that is a wager that I cannot pass up," He grinned. "Now I definitely won't tell you a thing."

Suzanne kept staring at him and he relented a few moments later, "Fine. We are in Paris, and it so happens a lovely and creative little architect we both adore…and her dreadfully droll significant other are here as well for a little vacation. So naturally you can thank Ariadne for the delicious meal, the general aesthetics and ambiance, and the dear Mr. Collins for the logistics."

"Arthur and Ariadne are in the city?" She asked excitedly, she hadn't seen either one of them since before she'd left Los Angeles.

"They are," Eames sighed, "And let me guess, you'd love to have them over for a meal."

"Well this is supposed to be _our_ romantic weekend," Suzanne said as she slid off of her stool and climbed up into his lap. "But what if I cook all afternoon like I used to, and we can have a nice early dinner with them and then I'll let you do whatever you'd like to me for the rest of the evening for your Valentine's Day present."

He quirked up his brow, "That would be why they are already coming over here for five, but now that you've offered this extra little tasty tid bit, I must say I am eagerly looking forward to the night. I may just spend all afternoon thinking about what I want to do to you."

She shook her head and kissed him deeply, "I'm sure you'll figure out something, my love."

* * *

It took a small trip to the market down the street, weaving in and out of a boulangerie for a loaf of rustic sourdough bread and the charcuterie for a bit of gorgeous beef tenderloins before she was back in no time in the kitchen heating up the cast iron Dutch oven and frying up a bit of thick cut bacon for beef bourguignon in one of his paisley button down shirts as he absently flipped through the _Kama Sutra_, turning the book every now and then with a wink when he found something particularly enjoyable.

One particular position had her stopping in mid-saute to tilt her head in confusion. "So I'm supposed to be upside-down and on my head for the duration?" She asked with a puzzled smirk.

"Mhm," He answered staring at her, "You know I can hold you up too."

"I'm a bit concerned with passing out from a rush of blood to the head," She needled as she resumed cooking.

"I think the rush of blood is the point, darling. Though I am missing the days that your big, beautifully rounded belly required a side mount. If I remember correctly it had you saying some very, _very_ naughty things right before you went into labor delivered my son."

Suzanne blushed at the memory as she added the carrots and celery to the bacon and meat grease in the pan, "I'm afraid I don't remember anything about that night," She smiled, "Too much trauma you see."

"Ah," Eames grinned, "Are you sure you don't remember begging me to 'take the pussy I owned', because I quite _clearly_ remember that."

She laughed as she added the beef and the bacon back into the pot and grabbed a bottle of burgundy, popping the cork deftly after a small struggle with a cork screw and pouring the entire contents into the pot with a pile of chopped thyme, parsley and tarragon. "Nope, I don't remember that at all."

He slid off his stool and she knew he was coming up behind her, his solid warmth against her back as he leaned down to press his soft, full lips to her ear, "Do you remember telling me that I have a huge, magnificent cock?"

Suzanne bit her lip as she tried to focus, reaching into the liquor cabinet to grab a bit of cognac to finish the recipe. "I don't think I used the term huge, I believe magnificent was used singularly." She finally said unable to hold back a smile as she covered the pot and turned the temperature down low to simmer the rich, fragrant stew.

Eames chuckled in her ear darkly as he spun her around and backed her into the table, putting his palms flat on the table and bringing his body flush with hers. She let a low gasping and very appreciative moan slip from between her lips as she felt him press his hardened length against her stomach. Green eyes flitted up to stormy grey as he stared down at her, unabashedly showing nothing but lust and want in his gaze. He leaned his mouth to hers and stopped a hair's breadth from her lips as he spoke in a low, husky whisper, his voice dripping with sex, "Do you remember screaming for me to 'fuck you like an animal'?"

A flood of molten hot arousal flooded her body and she could feel the sensitive folds at crux of her thighs swelling and tingling with desire as she opened her mouth to answer him. "Now that I remember, baby," Her voice was as low and lusty as his was and at the moment, if she didn't have him she was going to burst. "So how about you use that huge, magnificent cock of yours to fuck me like an animal on the kitchen table, and then we can take a bath."

"As you wish, darling."

* * *

Suzanne enjoyed the rest of the afternoon, soaking in the tub for a while before getting dressed in a casual long black skirt, simple black ballet flats and a white turtleneck cashmere sweater, before cracking open Eames' book and reading a few pages. He lay next to her on the bed, wearing his grey pants and a moderately tacky blue and tan striped polyester shirt doing a bit of correspondence on his phone with one of the grad-students, Jonah who was trying to get into Oxford for his PhD. They had a spare half hour or so before their guests were due to arrive for dinner and the relaxed lounging was remarkably enjoyable.

She smiled at some of the first few pages of his writings, they were light hearted poems and lusty thoughts about seeing her in Paris for the first time and what their love affair meant to a man that had enjoyed sampling all that life had to offer. But she then flipped to a short free written entry, and her eyes instantly honed in on it. It was his observations and memories of the first morning she'd woken up in his bed.

_I scarcely shudder to think that I had put no value at all on a concept like love for the first thirty three years of my life. I'd no doubt said it to a pretty face time and time again, when the moment was suited for slaking my lust and indulging in the wonderful animal side of my mind. But never once had I used the sentiment to express a genuine emotion. I'd never had family, or the traditional avenues for attachment, so I'd rather wager to say I was an innocent in some ways where love was concerned, dare I say virginal? But that was before I opened my eyes into sunshine on the first morning that _she_ shared my bed. _

_My Goddess, my love…_

_I rose early, as I always did, and I remember simply looking at her, marveling at the way her ivory skin seemed to glow against the brilliant ebony of her hair. She was an angel, the living embodiment of Venus, Aphrodite or whatever other foolish mythology man had invented to try and define beauty. They paled all of them to what I had seen. We may have spent a night engaged in an ancient, primal dance that man had long ago deemed himself to be dominant in, but for the first time in my life I had been the submissive, and I hadn't the slightest idea._

_She had claimed me that night. I'd taken her body, but she'd stolen my soul, and when I looked upon her in the light of day, I knew deep down that she would always, always hold sway over my heart. Imagine my surprise. I'd been beaten at my very own game; a master in the art of seduction who'd been outwitted by a pretty face and a razor sharp mind._

_I quite imagine Sampson feeling the same way before Delilah took his strength._

_And as I write this I'm still sitting in my bed, albeit miles and miles from the first one we shared in every way…and she is still sleeping near me…and I am still conquered and claimed…and I cannot think of anything to do but smile like a lovesick school boy and fall to my knees at her feet in blind worship._

_To think, there was a time in my life that I had ignored such sentiments… I was such a fool._

Suzanne closed the book gently and turned to look at her husband, trying to recall that mischievous man who had doggedly pursued her with such single minded determination. One who spoke of a life of decadence…she'd managed to make him fall for her. It still made her smile.

"You've written quite a beautiful book, Mr. Eames," She sighed as she snuggled up to his chest.

"I had a lovely, lovely subject, Mrs. Eames," He replied as he set his phone down and pulled her close, rolling them both until he was on top of her again. "What do you say to another round before…"

A loud knock interrupted his thought, and he hung his head with a dark laugh, "Ah yes, I have a hard-on and am seconds from making love to you, so that _must _be Arthur." Suzanne laughed as she kissed him gently on the lips before getting up and pulling him out of bed towards the door.

She opened it with a warm smile to see the well tailored and impeccably dressed form of Arthur smiling back at her, with his ever present, flawlessly gelled hair and baby-faced smile that still belied his age, and just behind him, the petite brunette with beautiful brown eyes and boundless creativity. Ariadne brushed past Arthur and threw her arms around Suzanne in a tight hug.

"It is so good to see you; it has been far, far too long." She beamed as she let go of her only to hug Eames with the same enthusiasm.

Arthur as always was the picture of subdued enthusiasm as he offered Suzanne and then Eames his hand in a warm handshake. "It's nice to see you both," He smiled. "And Eames, much improved from the last time I knocked on your door."

Eames rolled his eyes explaining to the group the last time they'd seen one another had been three days after Suzanne had left LA for home, cutting all ties with him. Arthur and Yusuf had found him after too many bottles of Jameson and without a stitch of clothing on. It had been the point man's snark and his good friend's wisdom that had given him the common sense to pick up his life and get back to her. In fact it wasn't a stretch at all to say that he owed some portion of his happiness to the stick-in-the-mud.

"Nice to see you too, darling, as always it is the highlight of my year. Please, come in and make yourself comfortable."

The couple had brought a few bottles of cote du rhone wine and also a magnum of Dom Perignon to celebrate. Suzanne had barely gotten a chance to ask what they were celebrating before Ariadne jammed her little hand in her face and showed off a very unique estate style, antique diamond ring. "We're getting married!"

"Congratulations young man," Eames laughed as he clapped Arthur hard on the back. "I'd love to tell you a rubbish tale that would scare you senseless, but I am afraid I can do no such thing. Marrying Suzanne was the smartest goddamn thing I've ever done."

"Have you set a date?" Suzanne asked causally as they all walked into the kitchen and she poured them all a glass of wine.

"No," Arthur sighed, "We are just getting settled, in New York. We've got a new career and life to set up."

Eames smirked as he took a swallow of his wine, "Leaving the lucrative world of extraction behind?"

"The risk has begun to outlive the rewards," Arthur answered as he fiddled with the stem of his glass. "I don't want to spend my life looking over my shoulder."

"I'm a bloody University English professor, darling; you don't have to tell me twice. So what are you doing?"

Arthur shrugged as he stared down at the table, "Ariadne got a great job at this really innovative architectural firm, and, uh, I got a job at the IRS as an internal auditor."

Suzanne smiled at the twinkle in her husband's grey eyes before he pointed at the thin man and laughed loudly, "Christ, it's like your droll, boring as watching paint dry, dream job."

"Well excuse me for liking a job that requires a little specificity and attention to detail," He snorted, unable to keep the smile out of his voice. He shook his head as his thoughtful brown eyes watched Suzanne mulling around at the stove. He changed the subject easily, "So I take it everything last night was to your liking."

"Flawless," Eames replied with a rakish grin, "I don't think we got four hours of sleep."

"Yes," Suzanne answered over her shoulder, "Thank you so much for helping him, it was everything I could have wanted."

"Excellent."

* * *

The four of them sat around the table and enjoyed the rich, thick burgundy beef over thick slices of garlicky toasted sourdough bread to sop up all of the gravy. Suzanne sighed pleasantly as she sipped her wine and twined her fingers absently with her husband's, loving the smooth feeling of his wedding ring against her fingers.

"Oh!" Ariadne jumped up in her seat, "Do you have any new pictures of the baby?"

Eames laughed as he pulled out his phone, proudly showing off his screen saver. It was his son in all his chubby cheeked glory with a pair of his mirrored aviator sunglasses on. "Right, handsome man, he is."

"He looks just like you both, look at those lips," She cooed, "Oh, my God, I could just eat him."

Even Arthur cracked a wide smile as he scrolled through the pictures, "I can't even find one snarky thing to say to you Eames," He joked with a sigh. "I can't be anymore in awe of your life than I am in this moment."

"Thank you," He said quietly.

The two old colleagues shared a moment of truce in the form of an open, mutual respect, until Arthur snapped his fingers, "I almost forgot, you'll never guess the first audit that came across my desk. Apparently the guy that was there before me liked to take a little payment from time to time to keep his nose out of things. He's now enjoying a stint in a Federal Prison, so anyhow, I get his back log of cases, and wouldn't you know; it would seem that your old friend Richard Jensen did some very, very creative accounting the last few years in regards to his deals with Cobol Engineering and Fischer-Morrow. So much so that I felt the need to red flag it as a major audit and send it up to the Criminal Investigation Division."

Suzanne couldn't help but laugh at the thought of her ex-husband's hopeful legal troubles. She'd been raised by her parent's to not wish any ill will on anyone, but there was a special place in hell for Richard.

"Aww, did you hear that Annie, Dickie-boy has some troubles with his maths, and here I was thinking we had nothing at all in common." Eames stared at her with a cheeky smile. "Mmm, looks like I'll have to renew my subscription to the Wall Street Journal, and do you want to tell Nigel or can I do it. Pretty please, darling."

She couldn't help but laugh at him, "We can do it on speaker phone."

They finished their meal and Suzanne served a simple raspberry sorbet as a palate cleanser to lighten the sumptuous beef dish, while they popped open the bottle of champagne. There were congratulations sent around and for a moment in the laughter, Suzanne felt a twinge of sadness in her stomach as she remembered a dinner shared at this very same table with friends, with Mallorie. Her moment of melancholy wasn't missed, and Eames' hand reached over to gently touch her thigh with an affectionate squeeze as he turned his head to look at her, "She's here, love."

"Thank you, baby," She whispered with a small smile.

* * *

It was a little before ten when Arthur looked over at a slightly tipsy Ariadne with a smile, "You ready to go and leave these two alone?"

"Sure," She winked, "You wanna go check out that Cabaret down the street; they are supposed to have a really cool burlesque show at midnight."

Suzanne smiled as Arthur's face began to flush a very charming shade of pink, "Yeah that's not really my scene, Ari."

"Aww come on, darling," Eames said as he rose from the table with a smirk on his face, "I'll tell you what, three blocks over there is a delicious and very reasonable champagne bar, I recommend stopping by and drinking as many bottles as it takes to drown that little inner voice that you have and then go check out the show. And if it's the nudity that offends your delicate sensibilities, just tell yourself it's art, and there is nothing more pleasing than viewing some art with your significant other."

Arthur rolled his eyes, and at the same time caught Ariadne's eager stare, "Fine, it _is_ Paris after all."

"That's the spirit, Arthur!" Eames needled, "I am so proud of you, loosening that noose around your neck for the barest moment." He leaned his mouth over to the younger man's ear, but kept his gray eyes on his wife, not hiding the lust that was building in them, "I recommend a back table at the bar and the cabaret, there won't be that many eyes on you, and you should give your little fiancé a little something special."

The point man looked at him for a moment as if a usually snarky reply was building on his lips before he smirked a wry grin of his own, "Thanks for the advice, Eames, as always I am impressed with just what you have spinning in that head of yours."

"Creativity is the spice of life, never forget that."

* * *

They led the couple to the door with hugs and promises that Manhattan and Maine were not that far away, and it would be lovely to get together with Yusuf and Nita as well. Suzanne stood at the door with a smile and watched as they walked down the stairs, closing the door behind her and once again feeling that odd sense of déjà vu that had been swirling in her mind all day. It was an peculiar feeling of contentment and memory that she couldn't shake.

"You've been wearing that look all day, my love," Eames asked as he cleaned off the table. "Might I ask what is bothering you?"

She took a deep breath and walked up to him, "I wouldn't say that anything is bothering me, I just have this very funny feeling I can't place. It's sort of wonderful and strange at the same time. It's like being here with you again almost lets us go back and right what went wrong; I don't know, it's silly, forget I said anything."

He stopped what he was doing instantly, dropping the plates loudly as he strode over to her and took her in his arms, taking her mouth in a hungry kiss. His lush mouth captured hers in a move born of an almost unnatural desire and passion that stirred them both to their very core. He pulled away, resting his forehead against hers as he stared at her with something fathomless in his beautiful eyes, "I should have told you the first morning you woke that I loved you, that there had been nothing, _nothing_ in my life before you and there was nothing when you were gone. I should have asked you to marry me by the Seine when that girl took that picture, I was thinking it…but I was such a fool that I didn't even know my own heart's desires."

Suzanne cradled his face as her heart beat wildly in her chest, a strange sentiment came into her mind and it spilled from her lips as tears of unimaginable happiness filled her eyes, "Perhaps you didn't recognize your own heart, because it was mine. Because the moment I walked through that door for the first time, I gave it to you, Edward."

Eames' lips took hers as he lifted her into his arms to carry her over to the bed. In the end there were no inventive, experimental, naughty moves, nothing but the two of them stripped completely bare before one another in every imaginable way.

He held her tightly to his body, and she twined her long legs with his as he moved impossibly slowly, touching her very depths with each gentle rock. The roll of his hips relegated to an undulation that kept him full sheathed in her body as he pushed his unbearably hard length in a gentle rhythm, rubbing against everything. Their eyes never left one another's, letting everything that they never had to say out loud pass between them in those moments. They healed a final wound in a place that had meant so much to them both.

He wordlessly apologized for letting her go, and she for not staying true to herself.

And when their climaxes came, hers pulling him under with the force of her passion, they didn't look away from each other. They were both destroyed and remade in that explosion, as they had been so many times before.

Eames kissed her gently as he cradled her in his arms, not letting himself leave the warmth of her intimate embrace. "I want to bring our son here," He whispered. "I want to see him in our city." She could feel his lips slide into a smile against her forehead, "Take him to the Louvre."

Suzanne sighed deeply and contentedly as she held him. "That sounds perfect." Her eyes were heavy and as she drifted off into a satisfied sleep in her husband's arms, she absently remembered Mal's words from so long ago.

"_Being in love is being a half of a whole. Like you are waiting for a train, and you don't know where this train is going to take you, but it doesn't matter…because you'll be together." _

"I love you, Edward," She murmured, as a feeling of pure satisfaction filled her body, "Thank you for all of this, I could never have imagined anything like it."

"Mmm, 'til I die, my love. You deserve a Valentine's Day like this every year." He answered as he snuggled into her with a contented purr. "And I shall endeavor to make it better and better."

He was silent for a moment, basking in the afterglow of their love, before he suddenly started laughing out loud, his entire body shaking with mirth. Suzanne quirked her brow and opened an eye to stare down at him, "What is that all about?"

"Nothing, love, just picturing Mr. Collins after too much champagne at a cabaret, I do hope she gets him up on stage."

Suzanne couldn't help but chuckle, "Well if she fails tonight, perhaps you can do that at his bachelor party."She regretted the joke the instant it left her mouth.

His head popped up from where he was resting to stare at her with a wicked smile on his face and a purely criminal look in his eyes, "Oh, _darling_, you delicious, naughty thing, how I love you."

She smiled and rolled her eyes knowing that she was personally going to owe Arthur an apology very soon…then again, he may just thank her for it.

* * *

**Then again, tell me Arthur's bachelor party isn't just hysterics waiting to happen…**


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: This one was funny to write, it's a play on the day my baby sister lost her first pet, a goldfish named Ron, and I (being a whole five years older) was the one she wanted. We had a conversation like this and it has always stuck with me. I figured for Eames this would be particularly interesting because of his past.**

**Also the story about the pacifier is true…my mother seriously conned my middle sister that way. She also convinced us that sugar cereal was spray pained leftover cat food that they couldn't fit in the bags. And conveniently to illustrate her point, several brands that we wanted at the time were actually made by the Ralston company, who owns Purina, so she showed us the logo. I swear I did not eat junk cereal until I was in college, and even then I stared at it thinking…"It's not cat food". The woman is a genius.**

**Anyhow, I hope you enjoy this little bit…read and review…**

**This takes place not long after the Chapter with Will and his bad day at school, about eight years after "Dreams" ends.**

* * *

The simplest lessons in life can often be the hardest to learn. Existential concepts like life and death that face and human being as a result of their mortality are often the most difficult to explain to those who are the most innocent, ones who shouldn't have to learn them. Eames was five years old when someone at the state run orphanage curtly explained to him when he was crying out for his mother in the middle of the night because he had a bad dream that she was dead and she was never coming back to him again and to stop his tears.

So it was with great uncertainty and trepidation that he faced the walk early one Saturday morning to his six-year-old daughter Rachel's room to discuss the current state of her pet goldfish, "Ron". The little girl held her tiny hand in his and looked up from beneath her mother's raven hair with his own grey eyes as she pointed to the little round bowl with a look of utter confusion on her face. "He's sick, Daddy, look he's not swimming at all, he's floating on his back."

Eames looked at the sorry orange fish to find that he was indeed doing the back float…upside down. And judging by the look of things, Ron was due for a one way flush into the deep blue yonder. But that of course meant explaining to his little girl exactly what had happened to the poor thing.

Now most children would have been satisfied with a simple, foolish little lie, but not Rachel. His daughter was far too in tuned to spirituality to merely say that her small pet was "sleeping" and be the end of it. She was wise beyond her years in matters like this, and as she looked at him with an almost imploring look, his heart was suddenly gripped with fear for a moment. He wanted to run and wake up Suzanne, she always had a wonderful story about how her mother had explained things to her that the children both just seemed to eat up and understand.

Like the way she'd convinced William when he was two-and-a-half to give up his pacifier to the Easter Bunny because, "there were babies in the world whose mommies and daddies couldn't afford to give them a passy, and he was a big boy that didn't need it anymore". The boy hadn't cried one single tear for the beloved object, and he'd never asked for it again. A smile curled his lip at the way she'd made sure to leave him an extra big chocolate rabbit in his basket that year, she always knew just what to do.

"Maybe we should get, Mum," He said quietly.

Tears filled her eyes and she sat down on her floor in her pink princess dress that she insisted on wearing to bed the night before, her head hung as she sniffled. "I want you, Daddy."

Eames took a deep breath and sat down next to her, pulling the girl into his lap as he rocked her gently against his chest. He kissed the top of her head and tried to think this through in the simplest terms possible. But, as was her nature, she already knew what he was thinking. It was funny; it was something he'd always been able to do with Suzanne, he never thought it was a trait to be passed on to his children.

"Is Ron dead?" Her voice was so small, so unlike her.

"Yes, sweetling," He replied quietly, knowing that the truth was the only answer.

"Why did he die?"

Eames could feel his chest tighten with sadness as she held on to the collar of his robe, her little fingers pulling at a frayed thread. "It was just his time." He answered slowly.

"Where did he go?"

Of all the discussions to have at six in the morning, he shrugged, "I am not sure, my love, I bet it is where we all go, and I am pretty sure it's wonderful there."

She looked up at him and through her sadness he could see a small light in her eyes, "Will he get to swim in a new fishbowl?"

"Naturally," Eames smiled at her, "It will be the biggest and best fish bowl ever created."

"Will I get to see him again when I die?" Rachel asked.

The mere thought had him tightening his arms around her and holding her close, "That won't be for a very, very, very long time my dear one; after you are old and grey and have lived a happy life and done everything that you have ever wanted to do. But, yes, I am sure that when you get there Ron will be waiting for you, along with everyone else that has gone before you that loves you."

"Will Mommy and you and Will be there?"

He kissed her head again, "Of course we will, darling, I plan on following your Mum wherever she goes, she's stuck with me for an eternity."

"What about Grammy and Grampa and Mr. Heathclliff?"

"Well of course they'll be there, although do you think there will be room for both Mummy _and_ Grammy's shoes? I'm not quite sure that's possible."

"Daddy! Of course Mommy and Grammy will have their shoes!" Rachel giggled as she looked up at him. He laughed at her smiling face and was caught completely off guard by her next question only a moment later.

"Is that where your Mommy and Daddy are? Will they know who I am too?"

He wasn't expecting it, he was sure that he'd managed to satisfy her insatiable curiosity, and he certainly wasn't expecting the ache in his throat and the tears that came to his eyes. Would his parents know her; that was a legitimate question? Would his parents know _him?_

He tried to remember anything about them, but it was all a blank. Forty two years was a long time of memories to sort through, and he'd spent a good part of his life trying to consciously forget everything he could about his past. But as he thought back as hard as he could he remembered the night his mother had passed away. She put him in his car seat, he remembered her long brown hair and her smile when she kissed him, she was wearing a bright red coat.

"Yes, that's where they are, darling." His throat was tight and he had to cough a tiny bit before he could speak again, "I think they'll know you, I'm sure they've been watching over you since you were born."

Rachel nodded as she looked up at him, bringing her little hand up to cup his cheek, just like she'd seen her mother do so many times before. "They watch you too, Daddy."

Eames smiled at his daughter as he hugged her tight, wondering for the millionth time just how he had managed to deserve this life, this family. He kissed her forehead gently as he let out a deep, happy sigh, sniffling as a small shine of tears filled his eyes. "Ah, I love you my little Rae of sunshine, what _am_ I going to do when you turn seven and are smarter than I am, hmm?"

She wrapped her arms around him, "I am still going to need you to kill the spiders when I am scared, Daddy."

"That I can manage."

The little girl frowned, "So how do we say goodbye to Ron? He's a fish we can't put him in the ground, and there is a lot of snow outside."

He laughed and scooted his daughter off his lap so he could stand, and survey the fishbowl, "Well there is always a dignified burial at sea." When her little nose scrunched and she raised an eyebrow that looked too much like Suzanne to be taken without a smile, he answered her with a little more certainty. "Perhaps the toilet is the closest we can get this early in the morning in the middle of January."

Rachel seemed to mull over his answer and finally nodded, "I think that is the best place."

Eames was as careful as he could when he fished the poor floating thing out of the bowl with the little green net and held his hand underneath it so there wouldn't be a puddle on the floor. He nodded at the hallway, "Go ahead darling, I'm right behind you."

The two of them padded across the hall and walked into the bathroom. He flipped on the light before lifting the lid and gently dumped Ron in with an unceremonious "plop". "Would you like to say goodbye?" He asked her as he knelt down beside her as put his arm around her. "It's proper to give someone a send off as they leave the world."

She nodded and looked into the bowl with a wave, "Bye, Ron. You were a good goldfish. I'll see you someday, but not for a very, very, very long time." Without another thought she reached up and flushed him down the toilet. She stared at the swirling water until he disappeared from sight and then turned to look at him, all of the sadness gone from her face. "Can we go make breakfast, Daddy?"

"Of course," He replied, marveling at the innocence of children. He led her out of the bathroom and she bounded playfully down the stairs towards the kitchen when out of the corner of his eye he saw Suzanne coming out of their bedroom, wrapping her robe around herself.

Her thick black hair was still mussed from sleep, and from the love they'd made several times the night before. Her sharp green eyes nodded off towards where Rachel's footsteps echoed. "Is everything alright? She doesn't usually wake us up."

Eames smiled a wry grin, "Apparently Ron the fish ceased to be sometime in the night. She found him floating this morning."

"Oh, my poor baby girl," She frowned. "Is she alright?"

"Yes, you know our daughter, after a University level existential discussion about mortality and our place in the cosmos; she is just fine and now ready to go make breakfast."

Suzanne laughed and slid her arms around her husband's waist, leaning up to take his full lips in a tender kiss, morning breath be damned. "What about you, Daddy. How are you feeling?"

"Like the luckiest fucking man in the world, love," He murmured as he kissed her again, holding her close and never wanting to let go.


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: So here we a little one shot that allaboutthegray requested a little bit ago about when Eames and Suzanne find out they are having baby#2. Thank you so much for your lovely compliments my dear, they really made my month!**

**I can't leave these two alone…I really can't…sigh.**

**Please read and review…thank you as always loves! MWAH!**

* * *

"Baby, we don't have time," Suzanne gasped in an aroused and playfully irritated whisper as her husband's hands lifted up her night dress and gently turned her over onto her stomach. "Will's going to be awake so…_ooohh_."

Despite her logical and rather accurate protests about their three-year-old's habit of waking everyday at the same time, Eames really didn't seem to care this morning. He had woken up from a rather raunchy dream with the sort of morning wood that could not be ignored.

"Just need five minutes, love," he growled as he swiftly mounted up behind her, his fingers already dipping into her hot, wet center with a slow slide. "I just can't get this out of my mind." His voice was darkening by the second with lust and she shivered uncontrollably as he leaned over her back and put his face close to her ear, his full lips grazing the sensitive skin. "I was dreaming about us, darling…we were sunning nude in Santorini…fucking each other blind in the warm air…then cooling off with a dip in the ocean before I licked the salt from your skin… mmm, I think we need another vacation."

Suzanne moaned lowly and moved against his hand, rolling her hips in a rhythm that was driving her insane when mixed with the delectable promises that he was whispering-she was already racing there. When he felt the little patch of spongy tissue swell and the rest of her start to tighten up around his fingers he swiftly pulled them out and plunged into her soaking wet center with a perfectly timed thrust. The sensation of being so completely stretched in the way that only _he_ could ever do, had her teetering on the edge of a powerful shuddering climax.

Her body was humming and shaking and as she looked behind her to see her gorgeous husband, covered in perfectly cut muscle and dark ink as he reared up behind her and took her hips in his large, rough hands. It was the most starkly sexual thing she had ever seen…that is until she saw the look of hunger and want in his grey eyes. It was in these moments that the fathomless thing that existed between them even got close to a physical description. It was all consuming, indescribable, and completely uncontrollable. Two people connected physically as their souls merged.

It took no more than ten fast, deep pumps of his hips before she exploded, having to bury her face into the voluminous mound of down pillows because she couldn't contain the loud scream that tore from her throat. Her insides were pulsing and trembling and he was groaning behind her in a low growl. "That's it, darling, just like that…now hold on tight."

His warning was fairly issued. Because when he hauled her back against him and began to move, it was like unleashing some sort of demon inside him. His cock slammed into the sensitive barrier of her cervix with a brutal force, and Suzanne literally saw sparks in her vision before he began to move at a lightning fast pace. He was a beast, driving into her over and over as he bit his lip to keep his own loud cries of pleasure contained.

She could feel it building again and the overwhelming emotion had tears streaming down her face as she looked back at him and all his glory. The two of them locked eyes and held on to each other's stare as he brought them to a heart stopping end. Eames' eyes literally rolled back in his head as his finger tips dug into her soft flesh as he filled her with his essence in a long throbbing flood. They collapsed into a trembling heap and Suzanne relaxed into his arms as he held her close for just a moment.

"I can't believe you are that worked up at six thirty on a Sunday morning," Suzanne smiled lazily as she bit her lip; she was completely and totally sated.

Eames chuckled and kissed the top of her head, "For you, Annie love, I am always that worked up."

She closed her eyes and snuggled into his warm chest, her breathing had just begun to slow when a loud grumble came from her stomach. Suddenly she was absolutely starving and there was no way that it was going to be put off for anything.

"Oh my God, I am going to die if I don't eat," She said desperately. He laughed again and nudged her up so they could slide on their robes and make their way down to the kitchen.

The two of them had barely walked into the hallway when the sound of Will's little voice called out, "Mommy, Daddy, are you there?"

"We are, honey," Suzanne answered as she pushed open his bedroom door and helped him out of his toddler bed. His bright green eyes were already dancing with excitement and he hugged her tightly before running over to his father and jumping up to be taken into his strong arms.

She couldn't help but smile at the way the two of them looked together. Will may have been a perfect combination of the two of them physically, but his mannerisms were all Eames'. The little boy held him close and rested his head on his shoulder. "Can we make pizza for breakfast, Daddy?"

Eames laughed as they walked down the stairs with the fluffy form of Mr. Heathcliff right behind them, his nails clicking on the hardwood as his tail happily wagged. "I don't know about pizza, son. I think Mum has the stomach we have to listen to this morning."

"Are you hungry, Mommy?" He asked as Eames set him down on the ground.

Suzanne nodded, "I am, baby. And I think I want French toast and bacon, what do you say about that?"

"I love French toast!" He yelled excitedly.

She shook her head with a satisfied sigh as she began to grab the various bowls and pans she would need to make it. Her green eyes darted out to the already sunny weather that was steaming in through the windows. It was the end of July, and she was more than happy for the central air that she'd had installed the summer after they moved in. It was already getting hot, and it would no doubt have been very uncomfortable in the little house without it, even with the help of the steady ocean breeze.

She reached into the fridge to grab the eggs and milk as Eames started the coffee and grabbed the Sunday paper, sitting down at the table beside his son who was busy coloring. Suzanne hummed softly to herself as she cracked a few eggs into the bowl, reaching into the cabinet for a bit of cinnamon and nutmeg to add into the mix. She sprinkled in the perfect amount before she grabbed the milk and poured it in. Suddenly she froze, looking down at the contents of the milky, eggy bowl.

It was instantaneous. Her stomach gurgled and twisted and she flew out of the kitchen and made a mad dash up the stairs into the bathroom where she barely had enough time to open the toilet seat before she threw up the practically empty contents of her stomach. Suzanne breathed deeply as she rested her head on her arm as her body began to relax. Her heart raced as she stared into the water in the toilet…she felt hideous.

Now normally this would have been a horrible thing to wake up to on a Sunday, but this time, tears of happiness filled her eyes.

It had been a month since Arthur and Ariadne's wedding, and that night she and Eames had made love endlessly, in every conceivable position trying to make another baby. They had done it. Her period was supposed to come four days ago, give or take. She had been a bit irregular since she'd had her IUD removed a couple months ago. But she knew something was different today…she_ felt_ it.

A minute later she heard Eames on the stairs, his handsome face a mask of concern as he walked in to see her head in the toilet and tears streaming down her cheeks. "Darling," He whispered quietly, "Are you alright?" He walked to the sink and dampened a washcloth, kneeling beside her as she lifted her head out of the bowl. "You look a bit green around the gills."

Suzanne took one look at his face and suddenly burst into hysterical sobs. This is what she'd never gotten to do with William. When she found out that she was pregnant with her son she had still been married to Richard Jensen and had been in the middle of the mess with Cobb, Saito, Fischer Morrow and Cobol Engineering. She'd never gotten the chance to share the moment with him when she found out. She'd been in her office and had to hide the pregnancy test in the bottom of her trash in her small washroom; like it was something dirty and wrong, instead of the start of the little boy who was the light of her life.

The hysterical tears were also a dead giveaway to her. She was never this hormonal about _anything_.

When she finally took a deep breath to calm down, she took the towel offered and wiped her face. Her eyes met his from across the rim of the toilet and she suddenly started to laugh, this wasn't exactly what she had in mind either.

"Is everything alright?" He repeated reaching out to gently stroke her reddened cheeks.

Suzanne smiled as she tried to think of something sweet and romantic to say to him, but finally it just came out. "I think I am going to have your baby again."

Eames froze for a moment before a huge smile split across his face, "My love, _Annie_, are you sure?"

"Not 100% but," She motioned to the toilet with her head, "That brings back lots of memories and I am four days late by my count."

His eyes lit up with a palpable excitement and almost little boy giddiness that she had never seen before, "Can you take a test? Do we have one?"

She started laughing, "No, why would I keep a pregnancy test in the house?"

"I have no idea," He answered as he stood and helped her up, "I am going to go get one right now."

"Edward," She smiled uncontrollably at his eagerness. He was like a kid in a candy store. "It's seven on a Sunday morning."

"Rite Aid is open," He answered matter-of-factly. "And I can't go another moment without knowing. I won't be able to eat my breakfast."

"If you insist, but if it is positive, we can't tell Will yet, it's too early. I want to make sure everything is alright before we tell him." Suzanne said calmly.

Eames nodded as he leaned in to give her a kiss before he went into their room to quickly throw on clothes, kissing Will quickly before he ran out the door in a flash.

* * *

Suzanne took her time as she made a nice heaping plate of French toast and bacon. Her stomach had settled, and was instantly replaced with her ravenous hunger again. She sat down with Will and made him a plate before getting her own.

"Where's Daddy?" He asked with a frown. "It's time for breakfast."

She laughed and shook her head at her husband's impulsive foolishness, "Daddy had to run to the store, but he'll be right back. We can start without him."

"Why did he go?"

"Well, he really wanted to go get something." She answered as she picked up a piece of perfectly crisp bacon and chewed on it happily. "I guess he couldn't wait."

"Is Daddy happy?" Will asked, his little voice filling with a bit of worry.

Suzanne could feel her eyes watering again at the thought of adding another person to their perfect family. There was so much love in the house already; it boggled her mind to think that there could be even more. "Yes, honey," She answered, "Daddy and Mommy are very, very happy."

* * *

Eames came back a half hour later with a huge bag. He dropped it on the stairs and proceeded to walk into the living room to hug his son and ask him if he'd like to watch TV for a moment. It was a privilege for the little boy and he instantly sat down and was immersed in an educational cartoon on PBS with his faithful dog at his feet.

The two of them walked upstairs as he grabbed the full plastic bag as he followed her into the bathroom. Suzanne shook her head as she looked at the bag of cardboard boxes. There had to be at least five of them in there.

"Geez, baby," She laughed, "Did you buy them all?"

"No," He answered seriously. "I wasn't sure which one was the most accurate, and I was concerned that one of them may malfunction or something."

She raised her eyebrow and tried to be serious, "You were concerned about a _malfunction_? I piss on a stick; unless I pee on my hand there isn't anything to screw up." She tried to keep quiet as she burst into a fit of giggles at his absurd concern.

Eames' full beautiful lips frowned at her mirth and he crossed his arms impatiently, "Well if I am so foolish you can forget the king sized Snickers bar I bought for you as well."

Suzanne stopped laughing and clicked her tongue thoughtfully. She had craved the candy bar the entire time she was pregnant with Will, and the fact that he had remembered set her completely hormonal body into another round of tears. "Oh, baby, you remembered."

He closed the distance between them in a few quick steps and pulled her into his arms in a tight embrace as he tenderly took her mouth in a deep kiss. "Of course I remembered, love. Being with you then- it was the start of my life. I remember everything about how incredible and gorgeous you were. How you wouldn't eat chicken for a few months, and the smell of steamed broccoli made you nauseated. How you couldn't get enough of ice cream or cold milk…and how you wanted a massage before we made love every single night. How your belly grew round and full, and the first time I felt my son move inside you. I can't wait to do it again. I'm sorry if I've been silly this morning."

Suzanne didn't say anything, she simply walked to the bag and fished through the no doubt $100 he'd spent and came up with a brand that is designed for early detection. She opened up the package before walking to the toilet and carefully lifting her nightdress. She could care less that he was watching her…honestly after having him in the delivery room he'd already seen just about everything that possibly went on with her body anyway.

When she finished she capped the stick and flushed the toilet, placing it face down on the sink as she washed her hands.

"Now we wait a few minutes," She whispered quietly. For a split second she was nervous, he seemed so happy at the prospect of another child, she couldn't imagine disappointing him like that.

She needn't have worried.

It was barely two or three minutes when she picked up the plastic and looked at it, her face remaining completely expressionless as her bright green eyes met his pewter stare. "Do you want to see?"

Eames nodded as his throat clenched up with nerves. He never had this with Will. He would have given anything to have been with her when she found out. And now he was. He was a father with a family, and as he took the plastic stick from her he could see his hand shaking. But as he turned the little thing around to face him, the feeling of nervousness was suddenly replaced by an overwhelming feeling of euphoria.

There, on a little white and purple piece of plastic, was a small window with a "+" sign staring at him.

He was going to be a father again.

"Annie," He breathed in awe as he took her into his arms again, suddenly driven by an uncontrollable urge, a drive to have her. Thankfully he wasn't the only one. She pulled at his belt buckle that held up the very casual khaki pants he'd worn out and reached in to grab his already rock hard flesh. He kicked his pants off and shucked the plain white t-shirt before he slid off her robe and lifted her nightdress as his hands gripped her soft thighs and lifted her up. In the end he could do nothing more than press her against the wall as he lined himself up and drove into her with a swift thrust.

Suzanne wrapped her legs tightly around his waist as he took her in a fast bucking motion; the pressure of her thighs squeezing tight kept enough pressure on the top of her sex to stroke her little pearl with every bounce. Both of them were so wound up and so desperate with emotion and feeling that it wasn't going to take either of them more than minutes.

"I love you," He groaned lowly into her neck, his voice hitching on emotion as he suddenly stilled. His climax took hold of him with an all consuming power and he buried himself into her furthest depths as he released everything. "Thank you, my sweet love…thank you…thank you…"

She held him as she shivered through her own end, tears flowing down her cheeks as she heard him whispering over and over again. She knew that he'd been lonely for so long, and the fact that _she_ was the one that was able to help him never again feel like that was enough to make her feel so full of love. They stayed locked together for another moment before the sound of a little voice calling for them brought them back to Earth again.

Eames put her down gently onto her feet and kissed her one last time, wiping away the remnants of her tears. "Now that is done, are there any other life changing things you have for me today before noon, Mrs. Eames?"

The cheekiness in her tone had her rolling her eyes, "Not at all, Mr. Eames, now go get dressed before our son walks up here and we have to explain to him what Mommy and Daddy were doing."

"I think in nine months he'll be able to understand that quite easily, love." He replied with a saucy wink as he sauntered down the hall completely nude to their bedroom to retrieve his robe.

Suzanne sighed; the man was still absolutely insufferable. But she was more in love with him than ever, and was quite sure that a lifetime together wouldn't be enough. Of course the sight of his deliciously tight ass walking away from her certainly further emphasized the point. "You aren't the only one who's thankful." She giggled to herself as she walked downstairs to meet her son.


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: And this is for the lovely Miss Wynter who wanted to see a 16 year-old Rachel when her first gentleman caller comes by and Daddy Eames' reaction.**

**This was fun for so many reasons…**

**As always, read, review and enjoy!**

**And suggestions are wanted! More ideas gets you more stories!**

* * *

"Father_, seriously_! You can't _do_ that! It's not _fair_!"

Suzanne's ears perked up from inside her office as the shrill tone of her daughter's furious voice echoed through the entire bottom floor of the house. She rolled away from her desk just enough to notice newly turned sixteen-year-old Rachel's face was bright red as she stood with her hands on her hips in front of her husband who was calmly sitting at the dining room table grading a pile of mid-term exams as calm as a cucumber.

"I assure you, my darling daughter, I _can _do anything I'd like. I've quite earned it, and when you get to be my age you will have the same privilege." Eames' level reply was punctuated by a stare of irritation as he slid off his wire rimmed reading glasses and his pewter eyes met her matching ones. "As for it being fair, I have news for you- life isn't, you'd best get used to it."

The direction of the conversation immediately sparked her interest and Suzanne finished her email to a client out in India, before she casually walked into the growing war zone in the dining room. It wasn't a moment too soon. The instant her feet crossed the threshold her daughter was on her.

"Mom, can you please tell Dad that he's being ridiculous!"

Suzanne eyed her husband as he stared back at her with an amused smile. He still made her insides quiver. At fifty-four with a touch of distinguished grey on his temples and a few deeper set lines on his forehead, he was every bit the gorgeous Englishman she fell head over heels in love with twenty years ago. Of course it did help that his continuing interest in tantric yoga and a bit of manual labor here and there had kept his body in incredible shape.

They still couldn't stay away from one another. Even after all this time they were both insatiable.

She arched her brow and smiled at him, "What is it that he is being ridiculous about, honey?"

Rachel rolled her eyes and huffed, "My birthday was last week, on Saint Patrick's Day, like it always is, and I turned sixteen. Per the 'rules of the house' that means that I can date. Dad is now saying eighteen."

Suzanne took one look at the two of them and shook her head. Rachel was correct. She was also _stunning_. She had her mother's shiny ebony hair, which tumbled to the middle of her back, and her natural curvy figure and pale skin. But she had Eames' stormy eyes, his stubborn personality, and his gorgeously full lips.

A sophomore in high school, she was already a straight "A" student, like her older brother William, and was working on an early decision, full scholarship to attend Emerson College for art. She was also a figure skater, had been for the past ten years, following in her mother's footsteps. She was still brimming with creativity and it came out in her often funky clothing choices. As a matter of fact her fashion sense bore quite a resemblance to a younger Ariadne Collins. But no matter what the outfit, it was always stylish, but modest and conscientious of showing any of her flawless porcelain skin.

Suzanne frowned and looked at her husband, "What are you talking about?"

"I don't feel as if she's ready to date at sixteen," Eames answered. "It's not appropriate."

Suddenly Suzanne shook her head, "What isn't appropriate about it? The house rule is sixteen; it's when Will was allowed to start dating."

"Well, that's different."

"That is _not_ fair!" Rachel said angrily. "It's a double standard and you are being a jerk …"

"Rachel Lillian," Suzanne snapped her finger in her daughter's face and flashed her green eyes at her, "Do not talk to your father like that, or your ass will be camped in your room for the evening regardless of this issue, do you understand me?!"

Rachel hung her head and angrily grumbled, "Yes, Mom."

Suzanne shook her head; she had _finally_ turned into her own mother. Then again the huge chunks of white that she was fighting a losing battle coloring at the hairdresser every six weeks were further proof.

"Despite her mouth, I agree with her," She said calmly. "The rule we set is sixteen."

Eames frowned, "I realize that, love. But I am her father, and I don't think a sixteen-year-old girl belongs out with a boy in a car alone."

"Okay," She answered, "But we allowed her brother to do it."

Granted Will wasn't exactly a normal teenager. He didn't start dating until he was seventeen-and-a-half, the instant that Yusuf and Nita's daughter Indira turned sixteen. The two of them had grown up together, and she already knew, despite their young age, that there was no one else for either one of them.

But this was different.

For the first time in ages, she saw a spark of anger in her husband's eyes. He looked over at their daughter as his jaw clenched, "We allowed him to do it because he is a young man and in control of the situation. It is completely different with her."

"I don't see the difference." Suzanne said feeling her own temper rise. "Rachel is every bit as responsible as William was, and I find it insulting that you are insinuating that our daughter doesn't have enough self-control and intelligence to make a good decision where dating is concerned."

It was fast becoming a situation where Rachel wasn't even part of the conversation anymore. She stood quietly as her mother's voice was getting harder by the second.

"I'm not insinuating anything where our daughter is concerned, she's very responsible and intelligent. She's also your spitting image, darling, and dare I say that I remember what I was thinking when I first saw you. And it had nothing to do with getting to know you."

Suzanne's mouth dropped open and her head snapped over to look at her daughter. "Rachel, go upstairs to your room for a moment, your father and I need to have a talk in _private_."

"I don't want you two to fight over me," She said as emotion welled up in her voice. "It's not even a date, well not really, I mean I like him a little; it's Andy Shuman. We are doing a project on coastal tide pools for biology class, we were just going to get dinner at Applebee's, talk about our report, and catch a movie after."

It was funny; both of their children were very sensitive about the loving relationship between the two of them. They were the only one of their friends that didn't have divorced parents, and the concern of a fight was always something that made them very upset.

"Honey, we aren't fighting," Suzanne said calmly. "But we do need to talk about this."

"Okay," She replied as she walked off.

Suzanne didn't say a word; she just turned on her heels and walked into her office, silently commanding that her husband follow her.

Eames sighed as he stepped in and shut the door behind him. Watching as his wife put her hands on her hips, the very same way that Rachel had done only a few minutes earlier.

"You really fucking pissed me off out there," She snapped. "How dare you say that in front of our sixteen-year-old, do you have any idea how you just made me feel?!"

He frowned and stared at her, his voice mirroring her irritated tone. "It has nothing to do with us, Annie. We were adults when we met. My point was I don't want my little girl alone with a boy, in his car, being looked at…like…"

"Like _what_?" She pressed, crossing her arms.

"Like I look at you!" He growled, "Goddamn it, she looks like you, _exactly_ like you, and every horny little fuck is going to be thinking about being the first one to conquer her like she's a prize to be had. I can't bear the thought of my little girl coming home crying because some wanker broke her heart. I'm not ready for that."

Suzanne instantly stilled her face softening as she took in the emotion in her husband's words, and the look on his handsome face. "Baby," She said quietly as she cupped his freshly shaven face, "I know it's not easy to see them grow up. But we have to know that we have raised them to make the right decisions. And life is something to be experienced to learn its lessons. I mean look at everything both of us have been through. It's made us who we are."

He snorted derisively, "That's exactly what I mean, love. I _was_ one of those fucking wankers, and we both know our daughter, she's just like you. I'm going to open that door and stare myself in the face. And then I'm going to have to cut his bollocks off."

She laughed and kissed him softly, keeping her lips hovering close. "I am not worried about her at all. She _is_ just like I was at that age, she's already well aware that efficiency is best found in her own capable hands."

"Is that so, Mrs. Eames?" He murmured lowly as a darkening color bled into his stormy eyes. Their argument, as always, quickly faded in the shadow of their incredible passion.

"Absolutely, Mr. Eames," She whispered, gasping as his tongue snaked out to catch the top of her lip with a slow swipe. "Being a connoisseur of my own body is what helped me realize much later in life, upon seeing a man waltz into a warehouse in Paris wearing an atrocious polyester shirt and smelling like an exotic spice market that I'd finally found someone who could take me like I deserved."

"Mmm, which is every minute of every day," He leaned in and cupped the back of her head with his hand, twining his fingers into her hair as his full lips took hers in a slow, deep kiss.

Suzanne grabbed at the paisley yellow shirt that he was wearing, pulling his strong body against hers as she kissed him back with a passionate moan. She smirked at the fact that after all these years he still managed to pull off the most ridiculous outfits and make them ludicrously sexy. Worse yet, he was actually coming back in style- his more artsy students had complimented him on his "vintage" look more than once. But right now, she could care less what he was wearing. Her hands were at his belt as he lifted her up to sit on the smooth surface of her desk, lifting her long black skirt with ease and quickly sliding off her lacy panties in a practiced move.

Eames moved between her smooth, long legs as his pants fell to the floor with a dull clink, taking his own hardness into his hand and guiding it to his wife's deliciously wet center. Still perfect after all these years. With a low groan he slowly pushed in, savoring every second, every inch, until he was seated to her very limit. He leaned in to take her lips again as he rested his hands flat on the desk on either side of her hips before he began to roll his hips in a fluid rock. He groaned his pleasure into her mouth as he picked up the pace, loving the way she moved against him in a flawless rhythm. It was like breathing between them.

She pulled her mouth away with a quiet breathy moan only a few short minutes later, "I'm going to come. I want you to come with me, baby."

He could feel her inner walls tightening into an unbelievably snug grip, and he put his lips to hers as he surrendered to the pure bliss that raced down his spine, spilling his seed as the pulses of her climax began. They rode out the wave together, trembling and shaking with feeling until they finally stilled a moment later.

"I love you," Eames whispered as he kissed her lips again. "I'm sorry about being an ass."

"I love you too," Suzanne answered with a smile, pausing for a moment before she added. "Now you know I'm not the one you have to apologize to. You have to go upstairs and talk to your daughter."

He grumbled, "Yes, darling. I realize I have to go upstairs and tell my sixteen-year-old daughter that she's free to run out amongst the wolves."

She rolled her eyes as he stepped away and pulled up his pants, fixing his shirt, still frowning. She stood up and slipped her discarded panties back on before she grinned, "You know, if she goes out tonight, it will be just the two of us, all alone…it's been a while since I could scream as loud as I wanted."

Eames walked past her with a naughty smirk and gave her backside a playful swat, "Mmm, then we'll make the windows rattle, you naughty thing."

* * *

Eames reluctantly climbed the stairs and walked to Rachel's room to find her sketching in her notebook absently as she listened to her music through a bright pink set of earbuds. He knocked on the door jamb loud enough to catch her attention. She pulled out the wires and stared at him. "What's up, Daddy?" Her voice was full of sadness and disappointment.

He laughed as he walked in, taking a seat at the foot of her bed. "You haven't called me 'Daddy' since you were seven, Rae love. You are breaking my heart."

"I'm just bummed you don't trust me. I thought I'd earned that already."

"I trust you, love," He confessed with a wry smile, "It's just not very easy for a father to know that his baby girl is growing into a woman in front of his eyes. It hurts me to think some bloody idiot might make you cry and I won't be able to protect you from feeling that." The tears were already creeping into the corners of his eyes and he could feel his throat ache a little.

Rachel instantly put her pad down and crawled across the bed to climb up onto his lap and put her arms around him, resting her head on his shoulder like she used to do when she was just a little. He could quite clearly remember her sitting on this very floor crying about her goldfish dying when she was six, wanting nothing but him to make the pain go away. "You might not be able to stop it from happening," She said quietly, "But I'll always need you to hug me and tell me it's going to be alright."

Eames chuckled and shook his head, kissing her forehead and wrapping her up in his arms, "That I can do."

"And I need you to kill the spiders, too. Still not cool with them."

He laughed and held her tight, "Of course, my darling."

* * *

It was a little before four-thirty when a sensible looking green Toyota Camry pulled into the driveway. Eames was still sitting in the dining room grading papers and Suzanne was behind him in the kitchen, prepping two pieces of filet mignon that were going to be part of a romantic little impromptu dinner for two.

The doorbell chimed pleasantly, and Eames lifted his head up to see Rachel race down the stairs in a pair of khaki pants and a lilac turtleneck sweater, on her feet were black ballet flats and her long ebony hair was curled at the ends. The sight made his heart skip a beat as he recalled almost the very same outfit on her mother when he first met her.

This fucking wanker had better behave if he liked his cock attached to his body. He didn't move as she opened the door to greet her guest, letting him in and leading him across the living room to meet him.

He didn't know what he expected. Anything would have fit with Rachel's free spirit, from a dreadlocked hippie artist to a tattooed bad boy musician. But the absolute _last _thing he ever thought to see was a thin, tall young man in a pair of perfectly pressed and creased Dockers with a black cashmere sweater and a white collared shirt underneath with neatly gelled hair and warm hazel eyes.

Jesus Christ. His baby girl was going out with mini Arthur Collins. He wasn't sure if he was relieved or concerned. But when he extended his hand, Eames took it in a strong shake.

"Andrew Shuman. Thank you for letting me take Rachel out for the evening, Mr. Eames," His voice was intelligent clear…and stick-in-the-mud-dry-as-toast boring…somewhere the point man was laughing at him.

"Yes, well, her curfew is ten-thirty. I don't need to tell you what will happen to you if you miss that deadline." Eames said as he fixed him with a sharp stare.

"No sir," He answered quickly.

Eames gave a quick tug with his hand and Andrew stumbled forwards a step as he leaned down to his ear, "I spent eight years in the Royal Marines Special Forces, son. I have knives, a lot of land, and a boundless sense of creativity; let's not make me use any of them, hmm?"

Poor Andrew's eyes widened into saucers and Rachel's pale cheeks turned bright red, "Dad! Not cool."

"Yes sir, I mean, no sir…" The boy stuttered nervously. "I mean, I will treat Rachel with the utmost respect, sir."

Eames nodded as he let his hand go, "I am sure you will, have a good night, now."

"We will, Dad, see you later," Rachel answered as she rolled her eyes at his show of force and quickly pulled the poor boy out the door before he had a heart attack.

He sat back down with a happy smile as the door closed. A minuted later he felt Suzanne come up behind him and slide her arms over his shoulders as she pressed her lips to his ear, "Very creative threat, baby."

Eames laughed and leaned into her embrace, "I did think to use your father's line about the pig farm, but there is always later for that."

She smiled as she let her hands trail down the front of his muscular chest, grabbing between his legs with a playful squeeze as he groaned out loud, "How about you clear off the kitchen table and show me just how boundlessly creative you are."

"As you wish, love."


	9. Chapter 9

**AN: So the very, very lovely allaboutthegray told me the other day she was missing Eames and Suzanne. So without a second thought I had to pull something together, because quite frankly I miss them too. She reminded me that we never really saw what happened after they got married, so I decided to expand on that.**

**This little bit fits right at the beginning of Chapter 34 in "Dreams".**

**So I give you lemony romance...**

**As always your reviews are love...and I am sure I have a couple more of these in me...I just can't leave them alone.**

* * *

_Now, by the authority in me vested by the laws of the State of Maine, and the City of Bath, I pronounce you to be husband and wife and extend to you my best wishes for a successful and happy married life together. Congratulations Mr. and Mrs. Eames. Edward, you may kiss your beautiful wife._

Suzanne couldn't stop the tears that came to her eyes as she stood in the middle of City Hall in front of her parents and stared at the unbearably handsome face of her _husband_. After everything they had been through, they were finally together- forever.

Eames was smiling at her, with a genuine, full-mouthed, beaming grin that lit up his entire face, before he reached out to her, pulling her close. She smiled with unabashed joy as his strong hands came up to hold her, one in the small of her back, and the other cradled her neck as his lips slid into the mischievous grin that she adored, his beautiful, lush mouth claiming hers in a passionate kiss.

Her eyes fell closed, and suddenly there was nothing but them. Nothing but the press of his lips, the deep plunge of his smooth, soft tongue, the feel of his solid body surrounding her, and the incredible smell of his cologne that permeated the air all around them. Suzanne knew that from this moment on they would never be parted from one another again. She would follow him, happily, until the end of her days, and when that time came- no matter who went first, the other would wait, wherever they went.

Suddenly her world shifted, and she squeaked out in surprise as he dipped her back dramatically. Her mouth pulled away from his with a musical laugh, her head falling back. She heard Eames chuckle warmly as he placed a feather light kiss in the hollow of her bared throat.

Her green eyes blinked open to stare at his grey ones as she came back to her senses and to her feet. She could hear the other people waiting to stand before the judge clapping and whistling for them, and above the noise she could hear her parents beside them clapping and laughing with everyone else. Their arms came out to embrace them both in tight hugs and kisses, her mother saying over and over again that this was the happiest day of her life.

Suzanne couldn't help but agree, shivering with delight as her husband's wide palm came to rest on the stomach of her cream colored wrap dress, covering the small bump of her growing belly with a tender possessiveness. She couldn't help but touch his hand, stroking his fingers and the new wedding band that now decorated it.

The four of them signed the marriage certificate, and with that done and filed they walked out into the unseasonably warm March afternoon. Her mother clapped her hands loudly as she stared at the couple and checked her watch, a wry smile splitting her face. "Well, do you think we can get a celebratory dinner with the two of you? Or would you prefer to go home now and break the bed?"

Eames laughed at his new mother-in-law's cheeky question, but refused to let his new wife out of his arms. "An early dinner would be lovely."

* * *

Eames sat across from his gorgeous wife not long after that, enjoying a delicious meal of rosemary seasoned lamb chops at the Boathouse Bistro, not far from their home. His chest was so incredibly full of feeling he couldn't help but stare at her the entire time. She was by far the most beautiful woman that he had ever seen in his life. She was thoroughly enjoying the lobster and asparagus risotto she was eating with the occasional soft mewling noises that drove him insane.

It wasn't long before the feeling in his chest shifted from one of innocent musing to the all-consuming almost electric surge of love and lust that that always simmered under his skin when he was near her. His body started to instantly respond, and suddenly he couldn't help but stare at the way she licked her red lips, or the sight of her pale, cleavage peeking out at him from the supposedly conservative dress that she was wearing.

His mouth watered at the thought that he had no idea what she was wearing underneath there. She'd been very, very mysterious when she got ready this morning, keeping her undergarments hidden. And knowing Annie, it was something that was going to have him growling and beating his chest like a savage- she had a talent for finding the most delicious knickers.

With that thought, his cock wasn't long in joining his head, twitching in his pants and finally swelling to full hardness when Suzanne looked across the table, her green eyes focusing on him alone with the same lustful stare. Eames had to stifle a groan as he felt the toe of her shiny red stiletto pump caress the back of his calf, moving up to his knee underneath the table.

His brow rose in a silent taunt, knowing that she was riling him on purpose, and he had no problem at all in politely excusing himself from the table and getting her to follow. He _definitely_ had no problem at all fucking her in the coat room he'd noticed on the way in. But that wouldn't exactly do for their wedding night. He had to be a bit more refined than that...or at least that's what he kept telling himself. As if responding to his thoughts, his body shivered remembering the way she'd asked him to go down on her at that ridiculous fucking New Year's Eve gala in a spare closet while the party went on around them.

Goddamn it. That was the last straw.

Eames wiped his mouth and glanced at his watch. His movement did not go unnoticed by Suzanne or her mother.

"Time for you two to get take out?"

He actually felt his ears getting red, and Suzanne replied without missing a beat. "I am getting a bit tired, all the excitement and the pregnancy. Do you mind if we head home?"

"Not at all," Her mother answered with a laugh. "Your father and I will find something to do, don't you worry."

The couple had the rest of their dinner boxed and said goodbye to her parents, promising to call them soon to get together, and thanking them for taking the time to come to the courthouse. They actually managed to calmly walk out of the restaurant before practically tearing across the parking lot, hand-in-hand. Suzanne was going as fast as could be expected for negotiating gravel in a pair of four inch heels and she was laughing as Eames' arms came around her and pressed her against the body of his black Audi.

His hands tangled into her ebony hair, as his lips claimed hers in a desperate kiss. "I don't know if I can make it home, love," He growled as his mouth began to kiss down her neck. "I want to fuck my _wife _now, and I can't wait for a bed."

Suzanne gasped at his words, her heart pounding and the skin between her legs getting hot and instantly wet. "We have to get home, baby, I want to scream tonight, and I can't do that here."

Eames instantly complied, opening her door for her, his hands shaking with lust and need before he stalked to the other side of the car and pulled it open. His body was in an all out revolt as he began to drive, and he couldn't believe what he was feeling. It was like nothing that had ever consumed him before.

And considering his past with this woman, that was saying something.

He wanted her, _craved_ her, but it was more than lust, more than love...and he suspected that it had a lot to do with the simple grey band of metal that now rested heavily on his left hand. He was taken back to that moment where he stood powerless outside her wedding suite in France, and later the floor of his shitty LA apartment when she sent him away. They were the lowest points of his life, and now...now it was all behind them. Every trial and every heartache seemed to be remarkably worth it. He would have lived it all 1,000 times, over and over again, if it meant that he was allowed to have this happiness in the end.

_This_ woman, carrying_ his_ child...for a moment it was too much for a former orphan boy to handle. Ironically it was this tempest of feeling that managed to let him regain some semblance of control. They pulled into the driveway of their beautiful little house by the sea, the life she had always wanted. And now...after everything, it was all he wanted as well.

Eames got out of the car and walked to the other side, opening the door and helping her to her feet and with a roguish grin he swooped her up into his arms. She laughed playfully as her arms came around his neck and her feet kicked up.

"Are you going to carry me over the threshold, Mr. Eames?" She whispered as her fading red lips nipped at his earlobe.

"Of course I am, Mrs. Eames." He replied as he easily strode up the porch steps to the front door. He set her down for only a moment as he unlocked the door and pushed it open, patting the big fluffy black head of their Newfoundland dog Mr. Heathcliff, before he scooped her up into his arms again and crossed into their home.

"Welcome home, my love." Eames whispered as he leaned in to kiss her again.

Suzanne shivered in his arms as she held him close, "I've waited a long time to be here."

"Me too, darling," He answered her fondly.

Eames carried her to the second floor bedroom and set her down on the soft downy king-sized bed. When Suzanne stared up at her husband she couldn't help but smile, staring at the perfectly tailored tan suit he had bought the other day, and the way it was paired with an absolutely hideous mustard and navy colored paisley shirt. But somehow it fit him. A mischievous smile quirked her lip as she sat up and moved to the side of the bed.

"You should take off those clothes and lay down, I want to give you your wedding present."

His eyebrow rose as she walked over to him, shucking his jacket off his shoulders and going for the buttons of his shirt, humming pleasantly as her hands traced across the hard, always warm flesh of his chest. Her fingers trailed lower, to the waist of his pants and the tattoo that put her initials on his body. She thoughtfully stroked the bar of gothic letters, loving the way she could see his body swelling and straining in his pants, his impressive staff rising up.

"Mmm, I think you should be careful with those fingers," He husked hotly. The growl in his voice instantly charging her once again.

"Is that right?"

Eames didn't reply, merely reaching down to undo his belt, pop the button and unzip his pants, letting them fall to the ground with a practiced ease. He practically purred at the way her eyes darkened and she unconsciously licked her lips, as if the mere sight of him made her mouth water.

"Get on the bed." Suzanne whispered.

He kicked off his pants, shoes and socks and did as she requested, lounging on the white downy blankets completely naked.

Suzanne walked to the foot of the bed, slowly reaching up to unbutton the side of her wrap dress, letting it fall open as she turned her back to him, looking over her shoulder to catch his smoldering stare with one of her own. She bit her lip as she watched his hand come up to caress the hard flesh between his legs as he watched her intently.

"What are you hiding under there, love?"

She shrugged elegantly as she unfastened the other side of the wrap, "Nothing special, it's not like you haven't seen everything before."

Her voice was sultry and flippant, and she knew it was driving him crazy waiting. Truthfully she wasn't much better. The hormones racing in her body thanks to the pregnancy were already priming her body for release. It wasn't going to be long at all. She inched the dress off her shoulders and finally let it fall to the ground, leaving her in nothing but a white lace bustier slip with garters that held up her nude seamed stockings and a tiny white lace thong.

Suzanne heard him groan lowly and for a split second she was self-conscious. The top of the lingerie was a thick lace bra that gave her breasts an amazing boost, but beneath that, the remainder of the slip was a delicate see through mesh that went down just over the side of her hips, where a scalloped detail decorated the ends. Her small rounded belly was easily visible, the small scrap of lace she was wearing for panties were far too low to help with covering anything. Whatever concern she might have had dissipated the moment she turned around and faced him.

Eames froze for a moment as he stared at his wife, elegantly wrapped up like some sort of present. Something that no man but him could touch. It broke him. He leapt up from where he was to reach her in the blink of an eye. He pulled her into his arms and claimed her mouth, his lush lips pouring out all the passion and devotion that he possessed into the kiss.

He lifted her gently and carried her back to the bed, laying her body down and removing her shoes to leave her as nothing but a raven haired angel on the pristine blankets. He crawled up on top of her to lean his strong body over hers and take her mouth again, this time slower, but with no less need. He lifted his face up to look at her, drowning in the feeling that he found there.

"I love you, Annie." He whispered. "From the first time I saw you, I've never wanted anything more than I wanted you."

Suzanne cupped his face in her hands, stroking his cheeks. "I love you too, Edward. Always have, and I always will." She smiled as her heart fluttered in her chest. "I need you now."

Eames' rough palms traced down her body, skimming over the soft material to find that the indecent little scrap between her legs that was supposed to be knickers had two little ribbons on either side that tied them on. He made short work of them, pulling the ties off and slipping it off without disturbing anything else. He couldn't help but stare at her, the pink skin between her legs was flawless and smooth, with just a small little patch of dark hair left, and he could see the evidence of her need glistening all over it. She was so goddamn beautiful.

He brought his mouth to her throat and the tops of her breasts, kissing and licking the flesh before he traveled further down to the mesh that covered her stomach, and the growing life inside her. He was reverent here. Nuzzling at it and peppering every inch with his lips.

She sighed in a breathy whisper as his mouth went lower still, his hot breath tickling her wet flesh as he settled between her thighs. He could wait no more than the time it took to close his eyes before he kissed her here as well, savoring the sweet taste of her nectar as it flowed out.

He had done this before to her countless times, bloody hell he'd done it to her in the shower this morning, but there was something different now...something sweeter and more powerful. He growled deep in his throat as he looked up at her, seeing his beautiful woman, pale and delicate as the lace that covered her- and then he felt her fingers come down to clasp his left hand, twining their fingers together as she pulled him up and over her.

Eames followed her pull, almost confused, until he felt her ring catch on his. He stared at their clasped hands with a strange sense of awe as she pulled them up towards her head. "Make love to me, I need to feel you."

She slid her long legs around his waist as his unbearably hard member slid along the wet warmth of her feminine folds, instantly finding the sweet spot that would give away as the gateway to their bliss. It was almost reflex alone that had him snapping his hips forward to bury himself inside her to the hilt. She fit like a tailored glove, something made only for him.

They both cried out at sensation, and with her thighs tightening around him, Eames began to thrust. Slow and deep at first, hitting her off with absolute perfection, rubbing against that spot inside her that no man had ever touched like he had. But it wasn't long before her quiet breathy moans were growing louder and louder as his hips picked up speed. He kept his body off her belly, but still arched over to take her panting mouth.

"You feel so good," Suzanne managed to say through a breathy cry.

Everything inside her was tightening up, she was so wound up from the emotion of the day, and the absolutely unbearable sensations that his unrelenting pace was sending surging through her body. She was only going to be able to finish once...and it was going to rock her like nothing else.

"Baby," She whimpered. "I'm gonna come...so hard..."

"Yes, my love, I'm going to take you there," He growled out as he shifted on his haunches to straighten out his back more, grasping her hip with one hand and still keeping the other one clasped with hers. It gave him the freedom to take complete control, diving them both closer and closer to the edge. Eames worked her ruthlessly, and when her body seized up in the throes of her orgasm, her back bowing into a graceful curve, he was there to meet her. The vise-like clamp of her inner walls worked his cock like a fist and he surrendered to it, exploding into her with a rush of warm seed.

It took him a second to come back into his right mind again. His hands were soft on her body as he gently withdrew from her warmth and lay beside her on the pillows. There was a sated smile on her beautiful face and she kissed him on the tip of his nose, "I believe we just consummated our union."

"Indeed we did," He chuckled back. A sly grin crossed his full lips and he playfully stared at her. "I do hope this was monumentally more pleasing than your previous wedding night."

His cheeky statement had her raising her eyebrow in jest. But he had a point. "You would be correct in that assumption." She smiled as he pulled her into his arms, holding her close. "I do hope this was more pleasing for you too."

Eames grimaced, shaking his head with a groan. "Infinitely. I spent the night drinking four magnums of Dom Perignon, drowning in self-loathing and wanking to memories of you. Not my finest evening I assure you."

Suzanne laughed at his candid admission, "Mmm, that does provide a rather pleasing image though."

He raised a brow in surprise as he stared hungrily at her mouth again, "You filthy, gorgeous thing. I can't believe you are mine forever."

"'Til I die," She answered without reservation.

The moment was suddenly shattered as Suzanne's ever demanding stomach growled loudly. A reminder of the half-eaten dinner that was still sitting in the car. Eames smirked as he leaned over to kiss her lips and his hand rested on her rounded stomach. "Is my little one hungry?"

"It's always hungry, baby." She smiled as he stood up and grabbed his robe.

"As loathe as I am to have you take off that succulent little bit of naughty lace, why don't you get comfortable in your fluffy robe and I'll bring you your meal."

"I can always put it on again," She answered as he walked out the door.

"Not tonight, love."

* * *

Eames returned ten minutes later with a breakfast tray loaded up with their leftovers and a glass of sparkling water for each of them. He carefully placed it on the edge of the bed before he got settled next to his wife and served the food.

As he watched her eat her food in a very relaxed manner, he couldn't help but think back to a time when the thought of spending his life with just one woman, in one place, was enough to make him run away with his tail tucked firmly between his legs. But now, as he sat in the silence of his bedroom next to the woman he loved, he couldn't imagine his life being anything other than this.

For all the wondering he'd ever done he had finally found what he was looking for. Not in some far off land, but deep within himself.

And that was something a father could share with his child.


End file.
